Doppelganger
by HoraceCrux
Summary: AU. Albus Dumbledore keeps a secret that may be the very downfall of the wizarding world. Will Voldemort learn of this secret which Dumbledore values more than the prophecy? Or, will someone find out what it is?
1. False Hope

_Disclaimer: Characters of the Harry Potter saga are owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is written as a fan fiction. No right infringement is intended. Any similarity to other Harry Potter fan fictions is purely coincidental._

Summary: AU. Albus Dumbledore keeps a secret that may be the very downfall of the wizarding world. Will Voldemort learn of this secret, which Dumbledore values more than the prophecy? Or, will someone find out what it is?

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Chapter 1: False Hope

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, sadly surveyed the street and houses in Hogsmeade. Aurors, Hogwarts teachers, Order members, and medi-wizards roamed the magical village, helping the wounded, and removing dead bodies. The carnage was caused by a surprise attack of unknown number of Death Eaters. He couldn't help blaming himself for the massacre. He should have prepared for this eventuality. They could have driven the Death Eaters with minimum damage, and probably no cost of lives. It was obvious Voldemort would plan an attack this Halloween night. Because of his decision to compromise, innocent witches and wizards were injured and killed.

"Dumbledore," a brusque voice behind him called. Dumbledore didn't respond. He continued to gaze in sorrow at the battle scarred street. The man quietly stood beside him, and clinically studied the war zone. "Those blasted Death Eaters have a lot to answer for. No regard for life or property. If this senseless killings and destruction keep up, our world may be exposed to the muggles."

Dumbledore looked up to a clear moonlit sky. But this time, the sight of the stars and the moon didn't lift his spirit, or ease his sorrow. He heaved a weary sigh. "What do you want me to do, Bartemius?"

"You're the most powerful living wizard in the world. Think of something," Bartemius Crouch Sr. agitatedly said.

"_And, you are the Senior Undersecretary of the Minister for Magic. Why don't you think of something?"_ thought Dumbledore, irritated. However, as much as he would like to, he refrained from voicing his thought out loud. It would, not only sound childish, but also unbecoming of a highly respected Headmaster of Hogwarts. "You know I have been doing everything I can Bartemius. I have also advised you tolerance on the decrees concerning magical creatures."

"Tolerance? After those creatures pledged allegiance to You-Know-Who, you want tolerance? We should just eradicate the whole lot of them. Then, we can just concentrate on You-Know-Who, and his Death Eaters," Crouch Sr. angrily replied.

As always, the narrow-minded view of the Undersecretary never failed to raise his ire. The man had a one track mind when it came to magical creatures. Dumbledore, then, noticed some reporters were heading their way. He looked around for his school staffs and found them gathered, just off his left side. He gave Professor McGonagall a slight nod of his head, and they walked towards Hogwarts.

"Bartemius, I have to go back to Hogwarts and see to my students. I believe you have everything here under control. If you need me, you know where my office is. Good night to you." Without waiting for an answer, Dumbledore followed the other professors.

( ( o ) )

Dumbledore entered his office with flagging spirit. The lost of lives in Hogsmeade weighed heavy on his soul. But, instead of sitting on his chair to rest, he went straight to a cabinet containing his pensieve. In no time at all, he was reviewing the battle. It was a typical Death Eater tactic, attack with wands cursing. What was surprising though, was the absence of Voldemort. A high profile attack like this always included the presence of the Dark Lord. Where could he be?

The Headmaster sat on his chair, lost in thought. He stared on the wall with blank eyes, while slowly brushing his long white beard. The lilting song of a Phoenix broke his train of thoughts, and eased his weary soul. His eyes twinkled on a red and gold Phoenix perched on a golden bird stand.

"Fawkes, you always know when to pull me from my dreary thoughts. What is it this time?" Dumbledore asked good-naturedly. Fawkes trilled in response and cocked his head to one side, looking at the table. Dumbledore also looked at the table, wondering what his Phoenix was trying to say. That was when he noticed a pulsing scarlet light, coming from one of the drawers.

The pulsing scarlet light came from a modified remembrall. Dumbledore picked up the item, and placed it on the table. He took out his wand, pointed it at the remembrall, and muttered a spell. The pulsing scarlet light cleared. It revealed a two-storey house. No, it was more like a cottage. It, then, showed a bespectacled man, sprawled on the floor. His face was sprinkled with soot and blood.

Dumbledore's eyes grew wide in horror. "James."

Just then, he heard a shout coming from outside his gargoyle entrance. Upon confirming the identity of an unexpected visitor, he let the person in. "Headmaster! Headmaster! The Dark Lord has attacked the Potters." Severus Snape was breathing hard, as he urgently made his report.

Dumbledore immediately went to the fireplace, and called Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, I want you to call Remus and Alastor. Tell them to immediately go to the Potter's cottage in Godric's Hollow. And, tell them to be careful."

"What is this all about, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked anxiously.

"The Potters have been attacked," Dumbledore answered mournfully. He saw his Deputy Headmistress' anxious expression changed to fear and horror. "I have to go Minerva. I'll see you there."

After closing the floo, he turned to his Phoenix. "Fawkes, I need you to take me to the Potter's cottage in Godric's Hollow. Severus, I want you to remain here in Hogwarts. We will talk upon my return." The Phoenix hovered overhead, and lowered its tail feather to Dumbledore. With his wand at a ready, he held on to the feather, hoping he wasn't too late. And in a flash of fire, they were gone.

( ( o ) )

Dumbledore and Fawkes appeared on a quiet street, facing the Potter's cottage. He checked his surroundings to make sure nobody witnessed their arrival. The neighborhood was as quiet as a graveyard. He saw Fawkes alighted on top of a tree beside the Potter's cottage. This drew his attention towards the Dark Mark, floating above the cottage. He turned his attention back towards the cottage. Any hope he was harboring slowly slipped away.

The Potter's cottage sustained considerable damage. All the lights were out. Not many of the windows had intact glasses. The blackened front entrance was wide open. The door was barely hanging by its hinges. They even destroyed the picket fence gate. No muggle or magical law enforcement seemed to be around. Anti-muggle charms and anti-apparation/portkey wards were apparently still active. Dumbledore dispelled the anti-apparation/portkey wards, but left the anti-muggle charms alone.

With wand at a ready, Dumbledore cautiously walked towards the door. Upon entering, his senses were immediately assaulted by the presence of dark magic. He stood still for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. He listened carefully for any sign of movement. Nothing. The sitting room was a mess. He slowly walked to the middle of the room, ready for ambush. He found James at the foot of the stairs. He went down on his haunches, and laid his left hand on James' chest. His sorrow deepened. James was dead. He left the body as it was, and cautiously walked upstairs.

He went straight to baby Harry's room. He knew Lily loved her baby more than life itself. She would protect Harry, no matter what the cost. He found her pinned on the floor, beside a wrecked baby cot. A ceiling beam fell down on her, and the baby cot. He also found smoking remains of a black cloak and ashes on the floor, near the baby cot. He flicked his wand at the beam, and put it to one side. As he feared, Lily was dead. Next, he moved to inspect baby Harry, lying on the wrecked cot. At this point, he assumed the Death Eaters were long gone.

"_Lumos"_

Dumbledore immediately noticed the blood on baby Harry's forehead. He quickly grabbed a towel, and gently placed it on the baby's forehead. By the light of the wand, the baby looked like he was only sleeping. Dumbledore couldn't help, but smile a little. He, then, lightly placed his left hand on the baby's chest. He didn't feel any movement. He moved his hand near the baby's nose. The baby was not breathing. Sorrow and anger exploded in Dumbledore's heart. Another family lost their lives to Voldemort.

The Headmaster sadly removed the towel from baby Harry's forehead. There was no need for it now. The baby was no longer in any danger of bleeding to death. Once cleaned of blood, he noticed something odd with the wound. Shining the light a little bit closer, he saw the wound was in a shape of a lightning bolt, just above the right eyebrow. He stood up with a puzzled expression on his face. Except for the ceiling beam, the debris was nowhere near the baby cot. He had a strong feeling the wound was the result of a dark curse.

Dumbledore's eyes lingered on the burnt cloak and ashes. Slowly but surely, he pieced the puzzle together. The ashes and burnt cloak could be the remains of Voldemort. The Dark Lord would surely use the Killing Curse on baby Harry. But, somehow, it destroyed him instead. How could a baby defeat a very powerful Dark Lord? Did this mean Harry was the child in the prophecy? Dumbledore's eyes fell on the cursed wound on Harry's forehead. He tried to recall the exact words of the prophecy.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"_

( ( o ) )

"Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall anxiously called from the doorway. Instead of answering, she saw the Headmaster picked up the baby, and gently wrapped him with a blanket.

"Harry is still alive, but he has been injured. I will take him to Hogwarts, and let Poppy have a look at him. I will also inform the Ministry of what happened here. Would you stay here, Minerva, and watch over Lily and James' bodies?" Dumbledore asked in a sad and tired voice. Fawkes appeared, and hovered above him.

"I will, Headmaster," Professor McGonagall replied, her eyes full of unshed tears. The Headmaster and his phoenix disappeared in a flash of fire.

Professor McGonagall conjured a blanket, and covered Lily's body. She also covered James' body, before walking out of the house. Once outside, she took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. She couldn't understand how Voldemort broke the Fidelius Charm. Surely, Sirius wouldn't betray them. Two loud cracks alerted her of new arrivals.

"Professor McGonagall? I came as soon as Moody found me, and told me news. How are Lily, James, and Harry?" Remus anxiously asked. He would have entered the house, but Professor McGonagall blocked his path.

"We're too late, Remus. Lily and James are dead. Professor Dumbledore took Harry to Poppy to heal his injury," Professor McGonagall tremulously answered.

Remus stood where he was, staring at the house in disbelief. Anger and grief filled his heart. "How could this happen? Dumbledore said the Fidelius Charm would keep them safe. Sirius wouldn't tell anyone even under torture. I know he wouldn't," Remus said angrily. But, there was a little bit of doubt in his words. After all, Sirius was also a Black. His family was a strong follower of Voldemort.

"I don't know, Remus. I really don't know. Perhaps, Professor Dumbledore has an answer." Professor McGonagall sadly looked at her former student. The murder of the Potters could very well end the friendship of the Marauders.

"Stay alert. We have company," Mad Eye Moody said in his gruff voice. He turned to the direction of the unknown intruder. Professor McGonagall and Remus automatically drew their wands.

"Where is the intruder?" Remus asked tensely. Mad Eye just pointed his wand at the approaching black speck in the moonlit sky.

"Can you identify the intruder, Moody," Professor McGonagall nervously asked.

"No. But, we will soon find out. Professor McGonagall, I suggest you take cover inside the house. Remus, hide behind those bushes. I'll take cover behind that tree. Wait for my signal." They hid in their designated places without further question.

Peering through the window, Professor McGonagall waited tensely for the intruder's arrival. As the intruder approached, she also heard a noise, which seemed to be growing louder, and louder. The intruder was now descending on an odd looking broom. The noise was now deafening. Professor McGonagall suddenly realized the intruder wasn't riding a broom, but a muggle contraption. She only knew one wizard, who owned such a contraption…Sirius Black.

"TRAITOR!" Remus hurtled through the bushes like a wild beast, and savagely tackled Sirius. They fell on the street in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake…" Professor McGonagall walked briskly out of the house. "Mr. Lupin! Mr. Black! Stop this instant!" she sternly ordered.

Mad Eye hurriedly grabbed a hold of her arm, before she could reach the brawling wizards. "Moody, what are you doing? We have to stop this," Professor McGonagall firmly said, trying to free her right arm from Moody's tight grip.

"Professor, there is a far better way to stop a fight, than to step between two angry wizards. Now, if you will just stay here, I will take care of this." Standing just out of the way of the two brawling wizards, Moody pointed his wand and murmured, _"Incarcerous, Incarcerous"_

Mad Eye levitated the two wizards, and dropped them inside the fence of the Potter's property. In spite of being bound, the two marauders still struggled to reach each other. "Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black, I will release you, if you two promise to behave." It took a few moments, but the two finally agreed.

Once released, Sirius ignored the wand Moody was pointing at him. Instead, he immediately started yelling at Remus. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? WHY THE HELL DID YOU ATTACK ME?"

"WHY WOULDN'T I ATTACK YOU, YOU TRAITOR? TAKE A LOOK AT THAT! TAKE A GOOD LONG LOOK AT THAT!" Remus was furiously pointing at the ruined Potter's cottage. "Why did you betray them, Sirius? What can Voldemort possibly offer you to turn against us, your friends? Because of you, James and Lily are dead."

"What? James and Lily are dead?" Sirius' anger was replaced with fear and grief. He was about to run inside the house, but the three wands pointing at him stopped him. "Remus, you don't think I will betray them, do you? You know I will rather die than betray them."

"Explain to me how Voldemort found them, then. The house is under a Fidelius Charm. You are the secret-keeper," Remus angrily retorted.

"What? I'm not the secret-keeper. Peter is the secret-keeper." Sirius suddenly stopped talking, when he realized the significance of what he said. "I'll kill him! I'll kill him! That #&+!, good for nothing rat has played us for a fool. Wormtail is the traitor." Sirius was now pacing furiously, his thought full of self-recriminations, and guilt for being a thick, stupid git. Some auror he turned out to be. He's as good as handed Lily and James to Voldemort.

"You are not making any sense, Mr. Black. What are you talking about?" Professor McGonagall curtly interrupted his ranting. "What do you mean 'Peter is the secret keeper'? And, who is Wormtail?"

He stopped pacing and faced his three accusers. "Professor, when the Potters went into hiding, everyone believed I'm the secret-keeper. Well, guess what? Everyone is wrong. Peter Pettigrew is the secret-keeper. At the last moment, I convinced James to make Peter their secret-keeper. Who would think that the Potters would choose Peter as their secret-keeper? No one. While Voldemort and his Death Eaters search for me, thinking that I'm the secret-keeper, Peter hides in a safe-house, hence insuring the Potters' safety. Wormtail is Peter's rat animagus name. So, it would be doubly hard to find him. I thought it was foolproof. I guess it only made me a fool."

"Why didn't you, at least, tell Dumbledore you made Peter the secret-keeper?" Professor McGonagall asked, bewildered. She would also like to know, how Peter became an animagus, but decided not to ask. Now is not the time.

"Why didn't you tell me? Am I not a marauder?" asked Remus, betrayal and anger evident in his voice.

Sirius looked at Professor McGonagall, and then, dropped his eyes in shame when he turned to Remus. "Please, forgive me Remus. I suspected you as the traitor. That's why we didn't tell you. In hindsight, it wasn't such a good idea not to tell anyone. But, at the time, it made perfect sense."

Several cracks sounded, and they were surrounded by blue cloaked Ministry Aurors. "Don't move! You are surrounded!" shouted the lead auror.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Mad Eye ordered. "I am Senior Auror Alastor Moody. These are Auror Sirius Black, Hogwarts Professor Minerva McGonagall, and Mr. Remus Lupin."

The lead auror approached Mad Eye, and saluted. "Sir, we have order to take Auror Sirius Black into custody, for the murder of James and Lily Potter."

"WHAT? I didn't murder them. I'm innocent," Sirius quickly protested.

"Be quiet! Go with them Auror Black. We'll sort this out later," Mad Eye brusquely told Sirius. "The bodies of the Potters are inside. Have your report ready on my desk by tomorrow morning. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," the lead auror promptly answered.

Two aurors bound Sirius hands with magical manacle, and took him to the Ministry holding cell. Professor McGonagall, Mad Eye, and Remus decided to see Dumbledore, and apprised him of the situation.

( ( o ) )

Meanwhile at Hogwarts' hospital wing, Dumbledore was sitting calmly beside baby Harry's bed. Madam Pomfrey was muttering spell after spell at the baby. It took his great Occlumency skill to hold his tongue, and let the school nurse do her job. It was fortunate the hospital wing was empty of students and patients.

"I'm sorry, Headmaster. There is really nothing more I can do. The baby is dead," Madam Pomfrey softly said, greatly saddened.

"Are you sure, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked with forced calmness. "If you will examine him again, maybe you can find a way to revive him this time."

"Headmaster, I already examined him three times. Now, I am grateful you have such high regards with my skills as a healer, but I am not a god. I cannot bring back the dead," Madam Pomfrey replied, barely holding her frayed emotion. "As I explained to you earlier, he suffered multiple broken ribs, which I say once again, punctured his lungs. I would assume something heavy fell on him. If that didn't kill, the Killing Curse surely did. Yes, the wound on his forehead was made by a Killing Curse. Now, is there anything you don't understand?" Madam Pomfrey's voice broke in the middle of her discourse. A tear was now falling down her right cheek. Dead or dying babies and children always affected her deeply. She always wondered why she chose to work in a school.

Dumbledore was ashamed for badgering the kind school nurse. "I am sorry, Poppy. Please, forgive me. I was just confused. I know you already healed his injuries. And, I saw you successfully resuscitated the baby a while ago. He was breathing. What I cannot understand is why you keep telling me he is dead. Would you enlighten me, please?"

"He was breathing because of magic. His blood was flowing because of magic. Magic is keeping his body alive. Muggles doctors can also do this. By attaching tubes of oxygen and liquid nutrients, they could keep a body alive, indefinitely. But, it is only a body with no soul." Madam Pomfrey blew her nose, after she finished explaining what she did.

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment. He was thinking over, what the school nurse told him. Once again, he asked for Madam Pomfrey's forgiveness. Then, he stood up with a smile on his face and eyes twinkling. Madam Pomfrey drew back, alarmed.

"_Obliviate"_

"Poppy, I thank you for saving Harry Potter's life. I knew you can do it. The whole wizarding world owes you a debt of gratitude." Dumbledore's voice was dripping with honey, as he heaped the school nurse with praise one after another.

"What? What are you talking about, headmaster?" the confused school nurse asked.

Dumbledore's smile broadened, and his twinkling eyes grew brighter. He picked up the baby, and wrapped him again with a blanket. "Baby Harry, here, has defeated Lord Voldemort…" Madam Pomfrey flinched. "For a moment, I thought he would lose his life. But, you have snatched him from the jaws of death, and brought him back to the land of the living. Thank you, Poppy." Dumbledore gave the school nurse a slight bow, and then, walked toward the door.

"Headmaster, wait! You can't take him with you. He must stay here for further observation," Madam Pomfrey said, displeased. If she just pulled baby Harry from the jaws of death, she needed to make sure he remained stable.

"I'm sorry Poppy. I can't do that. Lord Voldemort…" Madam Pomfrey flinched again. "…may be gone, but his followers still roam free. I have to take him to a safe place." Without giving the school nurse anymore chance to protest, Dumbledore quickly left the hospital wing.

( ( o ) )

Albus Dumbledore was back in his office, guiltily pondering his decisions. What he did to Poppy was unethical. She didn't deserve it. The aged headmaster reasoned it was necessary. But, what weighed him down the most was sacrificing his morality for the good of the wizarding world. Harry Potter was the child in the prophecy. He was not meant to die. That night, he made sure he would live, if not in body, at least in the hearts and minds of all magical beings. That night, he performed magic so dark, it would not only land him in Azkaban if discovered, but also shunned by the wizarding world. He hoped wherever James, Lily, and Harry were, they would find it in their hearts to forgive him.

Dumbledore immediately wiped the tears off his face when Professor McGonagall, Mad Eye, and Remus stepped into his office. After they sat down, he offered them tea and told them that another wizard would join them. As much as he regretted revealing a secret, Dumbledore told them that the wizard was a Death Eater spy for the Order. Therefore, he was important to their cause. Professor McGonagall, Mad Eye, and Remus were surprised when Severus Snape walked in. Professor McGonagall politely offered Snape a cup of tea, which he coolly accepted.

"If you please Severus, tell us your report," Dumbledore calmly urged.

Snape slowly sipped his tea, before he started. "The attack at Hogsmeade was a diversion. The Dark Lord's real target was the Potters. He believed, that the prophesied child who will defeat him, was Harry Potter."

"Why didn't you tell us about the impending attacks, before they happened? What use are they to us now after the fact?" Moody asked suspiciously.

"What prophecy are you talking about? And, how did Voldemort know about it?" Remus added confused.

"There is a prophecy that gives us a clue as to who will defeat Voldemort. For security reason, I cannot tell you the whole content. However, the first part of the prophecy tells us of a child, who will be born on the end of July from parents who defied Voldemort three times. Unfortunately, one of his followers heard the first half of the prophecy. I surmised from this little information, Voldemort decided the son of James and Lily Potter fit the description of this child," Dumbledore solemnly answered Remus' questions. For a moment, the Headmaster's somber eyes clouded with pain and sorrow. "As to the attack at Hogsmeade, I knew beforehand it would happen. Severus already informed me."

"Headmaster!" Professor McGonagall yelled in shock. Mad Eye and Remus faces also showed the same expression, and more.

"Yes, I know. I am as guilty as those Death Eaters who cast the Killing Curse. And, I shall carry this guilt unto my dying day." Dumbledore, at that moment, looked his one hundred thirty seven years of age. "It was my belief, that if I acted on the information given by Severus, we would reveal his status as an Order spy. He is the only one we have in Voldemort's inner circle. It was one of the hardest decisions I made. But I have to do it, for the greater good of the wizarding community."

"Did you also know that Lily and James would be attacked tonight?" Remus' question held an undercurrent of anger, and promised retribution.

Dumbledore looked Remus in the eye, and sincerely said, "No, I didn't know."

Remus turned to Snape, and menacingly asked, "Did you?"

Snape scoffed at the implied threat, but nevertheless, answered truthfully, "I learned of the attack, after I questioned the Death Eaters, who accompanied the Dark Lord. They remained outside, while the Dark Lord personally killed the Potters. They ran away after hearing the Dark Lord's horrible scream. One stayed long enough to cast the Dark Mark."

Remus held Snape's gaze for a moment, before turning his attention back to Dumbledore. At least, James and Lily didn't die for nothing. Their son lived, and Voldemort was gone. "Professor Dumbledore, about Harry, how is he really?" Remus asked with concern.

Dumbledore smiled widely, and his eyes twinkled. "You have nothing to worry about, Remus. Harry is perfectly fine. A married couple, who I trust implicitly, was looking after him. His injury left a lightning bolt-shaped scar above his right eye, as a mark of his encounter with Voldemort." Remus sighed in relief.

"How did he survive, headmaster? How did he defeat You-Know-Who?" Professor McGonagall asked, bewildered. She couldn't imagine how a baby stopped the terrifying power of that evil wizard.

Everyone was looking at Dumbledore, expectantly waiting for his explanation. He was quiet for a moment, seemingly trying to collect his thought. "I cannot tell for sure. But, I can hazard a guess. We all know Lily was an excellent charm student. I believe that in order to protect Harry from Voldemort, Lily managed to create a shield, fed by her love for Harry. Voldemort underestimated the love of a mother to her child. I don't see how he could. It was, after all, an old ancient magic. When Voldemort struck Harry with a Killing Curse, the shield didn't break, but reflected the curse back to the Dark Lord."

"Professor Dumbledore, do you believe Lord Voldemort is gone? Do you believe he will never return?" Mad Eye dubiously asked.

"No. I believe Voldemort is still out there, a shadow of his former self. An evil like Voldemort cannot be easily destroyed. No. I believe Voldemort will return. But, by that time, we will be ready." There was a brief silence as everyone absorbed the information. Dumbledore raised his wand, and conjured a fresh pot of tea. For a moment, they sipped their tea, and savored the feeling of freedom from fear and evil.

As the hour was getting late, Professor McGonagall, Snape, and Mad Eye took their leave. Remus continued sipping his tea. He wanted to tell Sirius' situation to Dumbledore, but he didn't know how to begin. "Remus, is there something you want to tell me?" He heard Dumbledore asked with some concern.

"Professor Dumbledore, has anyone told you that Sirius was arrested for the murder of James and Lily?" Dumbledore just shook his head, and urged Remus to continue. "Sirius told us he was not the secret-keeper of the Potters. It was Peter Pettigrew. I believe him. I want to ask you, if you could ensure he receives a fair trial. In this time of uncertainty, it will be easy to sweep his case under a rug."

"I will do whatever I can, Remus," Dumbledore promised.

Remus smiled, relieved. "Thank you, professor." With that, he took his leave.

( ( o ) )

The news that You-Know-Who had been defeated spread like wildfire throughout Hogwarts, and beyond. The next morning, in the Great Hall, all the students were already seated in their respective house tables, even before breakfast was served. Everyone was excited to hear the headmaster, confirm the news. At the head table, some of the chairs were still vacant, but slowly being occupied as the professors walked in. At last, all the professors were present including the headmaster. The Great Hall grew quiet as the headmaster slowly stood up.

"For a long time, the wizarding world has been terrorized by Lord Voldemort." Gasps, Shrieks, and Eeps emanated from the student body. "You don't have to fear his name anymore for he has been defeated." A loud roar, shouts, and clapping rolled over the Great Hall. "Please, everybody stand up. I would like to propose a toast…to Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived." Dumbledore noticed the toast was repeated by everyone, except Slytherins. If only Harry had survived, the whole wizarding world would have something to truly hope for.


	2. True Lies

_Disclaimer: Characters of the Harry Potter saga are owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is written as a fan fiction. No right infringement is intended. Any similarity to other Harry Potter fan fictions is purely coincidental._

Summary: AU. Albus Dumbledore keeps a secret that may be the very downfall of the wizarding world. Will Voldemort learn of this secret, which Dumbledore values more than the prophecy? Or, will someone find out what it is?

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Chapter 2: True Lies

"This court finds Sirius Black not guilty, and is absolved of all charges filed against him." Sirius heaved a sigh of relief. Aurors removed the shackles from his arms and legs.

Later, at the Headmaster's office in Hogwarts, Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore were enjoying a quiet cup of tea. Sirius was glad the question of his loyalty had been laid to rest. Now, he only needed to convince the headmaster to give him Harry.

"Professor Dumbledore, thank you for your help," Sirius gratefully said. "I think Crouch wants me imprison in Azkaban, even without a trial."

Dumbledore simply nodded his head. "I only wish your trial has been arranged, sooner. Azkaban is no place for any wizard, innocent or guilty," the headmaster said somberly. "As for Crouch, I am afraid he is very reluctant to embrace changes."

"Well, I'm just glad, I'm out of Azkaban and Crouch's clutches." Sirius slowly replaced his cup on a side table. "Professor, there is another matter that I like to discuss. As you know, James and Lily made me Harry's godfather. I must say I'm looking forward to it. Could you tell me where Harry is, so I can take him home?"

For a moment, the headmaster looked uncertain. He was undecided, whether to tell the two marauders the truth. His concern for the wizarding world won. The risk was just too great…the less people, who knew about the truth, the better. "Sirius, please, try to understand. You are a bachelor, and an Auror. Harry's well-being would be better served with a loving couple."

"I, too, have Harry's well-being in mind, professor. He is my godson. I'll do anything to care for him. All I'm asking is a chance to prove it," Sirius argued reasonably. He couldn't understand, why Dumbledore was denying him his right, as a godfather.

"Sirius, how is Harry going to fit in your life? How are you going to fit in Harry's life? Are you going to resign from your job, and devote your whole life raising him? What about your own life? It is not an easy task to take care of a baby. What about the Death Eaters? You are well known among their ranks. Are you just going to keep on running and hiding, afraid of your own shadow? Is that the life you want for Harry?" Dumbledore looked beseechingly at Sirius, as he expressed his concerns. "Harry is with a loving family, who will give him love and stability. He will have a normal childhood, away from the vagaries of this world."

"Professor, you know I love him, and can give him a normal childhood," Sirius insisted firmly. "Remus and I can provide ample protection for Harry. We can easily hide, and never be found."

"Remus will you be able to protect Harry?" Dumbledore asked unkindly. Remus' expression hardened.

"That's not fair, professor," Sirius quickly objected, pissed off. "You know Remus will rather die to protect Harry. Don't use his affliction against him."

"Forgive me, Remus. It was not my intention to speak ill of your affliction. But, I am asking the two of you, to give the responsibility of raising baby Harry, to a very loving couple. I assure you… He will be loved and protected, as if he is with James and Lily." Dumbledore tried his best to reason with the two marauders.

"If only it's as simple as that, headmaster. James and Lily chose me as Harry's godfather, because they know I love him. They believed I can take care of him, protect him." Sirius stood up in frustration, and slowly moved closer to Dumbledore's desk. "The care and safety of my godson are not subjects to debate. I demand you tell me where he is, now!"

The headmaster sadly looked at him. "I'm sorry, Sirius. I cannot. Perhaps someday, you will know the truth, and understand why."

"I'm grateful for what you did for me, professor. I truly am. But, this is where I draw the line. Tell me where he is, right Now!" Sirius demanded angrily. Sirius and Dumbledore's eyes clashed. Neither wizard looked away.

Remus quickly stood up, and lightly touched Sirius' right shoulder. "Sirius, this is not the way. Anger will not solve anything."

Sirius heatedly glared at the Headmaster, before speaking. "I will file my complaint with the Ministry. I know the content of James and Lily' will. You have no right to take Harry away from me."

The headmaster looked thoughtfully at the retreating backs of Sirius and Remus. _"It will not be easy to hold Sirius and Remus at bay for long. If I know Sirius, he will conduct a secret investigation to find the whereabouts of Harry. I have to keep the both of them pre-occupied, or off-balance,"_ Dumbledore thought to himself. _"Perhaps, it's time to talk to Millicent, about posting a guard to the Longbottoms. After all, they may still be in danger from the Death Eaters. After that, he can be easily reassigned to other post, preferably abroad."_

Sirius' formal complaint came to nothing. The Minister overturned the will, and sided with the Headmaster. Thus, the whereabouts of The-Boy-Who-Lived had become a mystery. Needless to say, the relationship, between Dumbledore and the two marauders, turned sour.

( ( o ) )

"Mrs. Oxley, you have a visitor," her secretary promptly said, following her boss, as she crossed the room. "He's waiting in your office."

Mrs. Oxley, Editor-in-Chief of _Witch Weekly_, immediately stopped, and irately faced her secretary. "Did you, at least, ask his name? Or, what is his business with me?" she asked, frowning.

"He didn't say. He just barged in here, and went straight to your office. He said you know him," the secretary answered uncomfortably.

Both, the chief editor and her secretary, entered the office with a little trepidation. They saw a man in the office, looking out the window. He seemed oblivious to their presence. He only turned around, when the secretary cleared her throat. The unknown visitor was wearing a wizard's equivalent of a business suit. He was about one hundred seventy two centimeters tall. He had a round face, brown eyes, and gray hair with receding hairline.

"Mrs. Belsa Oxley? My name is Agnus Barrister." He cordially introduced himself, crossing the room with his right hand extended. The befuddled editor mechanically shook his hand. "I'm sorry for not making an appointment, or the deception. But, I have a very important business proposition, which I'm sure you won't refuse." The visitor confidently smiled at the two witches.

From that strange meeting, _Witch Weekly_ acquired exclusive pictures, and stories about Harry Potter. Teenage witches (and wizards) would spend their hard earned gold to buy a copy of the magazine.

( ( o ) )

Here and there, year after year, a few wizards or witches would claim they saw Harry Potter, for a bit of spot in the limelight. Some even believed they were doing a public service, by pretending to know the Potters.

"I saw him! I saw him!" Max Blarney shouted, as he staggered to the bar of the Leaky Cauldron, breathless. "I saw him. I saw Harry Potter."

Crowd immediately gathered around him, excited to hear his tale. There were so few, who claimed to have actually seen Harry Potter, that occasion like this, deserved a good retelling. "Here you are, mate. Your firewhiskey is on me. Now, tell us what you saw," urged a gap-toothed wizard. "And, don't you spare any detail, either."

Blarney took his time savoring the taste of his drink. He believed it would help build the suspense, and drama. After a few moments, he put down his drink with flourish, and importantly faced his excited audience. He knew exactly what to tell them, because his contact told him, what he needed to say.

"Well, Monty, my good man, if you will kindly refill my glass, I can begin. You don't want my throat to dry up, do you?" The gap-toothed Monty reluctantly refilled his glass. "Aahhh, thank you…" Blarney momentarily took a small sip, before putting down his drink again. "There I was, minding my own business, when I saw him… Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. He was tall for an eight-year old boy. He looks just like his dad with his mum's eyes..."

( ( o ) )

Everyone was excited for the sorting to begin. It was the year Harry Potter would come to Hogwarts. But, as soon as the sorting was finished, a voice asked aloud, "Where is Harry Potter?" Murmurs spread throughout the Great Hall. At the professor's table, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore calmly stood up. All the students gave him their undivided attention.

"I know most of you are disappointed by the absence of Harry Potter…" the headmaster began somberly. "…So, do I. Unfortunately, his guardians have decided to teach him themselves. As much as I want to see Mr. Potter here at Hogwarts, it is not my place to contradict their decision. Who knows? His guardians may change their minds, and let Mr. Potter attend next year."

It was not a prophetic statement. Harry Potter remained absent the following year. By this time, Dumbledore had set his eyes on another boy. His name was Neville Longbottom. The headmaster could feel great power in the boy. With proper guidance from Dumbledore, his parents, and grandmother, Neville developed a wholesome and confident personality.

Neville became the unspoken leader of Gryffindor House among his peers. He had proven himself, when he stopped Quirrel from getting the Sorcerer Stone. Whether it was luck or not, nobody cared. The important thing was the Sorcerer Stone didn't fall into the hands of You-Know-Who. He was best friends with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. The trio was, in later years, joined by Ginny Weasley, and Luna Lovegood, and still later, by Susan Bones. He was enemy with Draco Malfoy, and his moronic Slytherin gang. Throughout Neville's school years, Dumbledore's subtle hand prodded him in the right direction.

( ( o ) )

"It's a shame what happened at the Quidditch World Cup," Seamus Finnegan said casually, lounging near the common room fireplace. "Those Death Eaters sure knew how to ruin a celebration."

"Yeah, but I heard Harry Potter stopped them, though," Colin Creevey eagerly replied. "I heard the Veelas were all over him, after he defeated those Death Eaters."

"Colin, I doubt Harry Potter attended the World Cup," Dean Thomas exasperatedly informed the young boy. "If he did, Fudge would have announced it, faster than you can say quidditch."

"Yeah, the only Harry Potter there was Stan Shunpike," Neville said chuckling. All the Gryffindors listening in laughed. "The Knight Bus conductor sure made a name for himself. He was caught impersonating The-Boy-Who-Lived to impress the Veelas."

"Forget the World Cup. Who do you think will be Hogwarts' Champion? My gold is on Cedric Diggory," Ginny said excitedly.

( ( o ) )

Tragic Victory

By

Noimee D'Plume

Wizarding families have lived in fear of an attack, from You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters, for as long as this reporter can remember. Last October 31, 1981, Godric's Hollow, a predominantly muggle village, celebrated Halloween without any knowledge of a tragedy, that caused the downfall of You-Know-Who.

It was a known fact, that the Potters were strong supporters of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. Because of this, You-Know-Who personally led the attack against the Potter family. James and Lily Potter met their end in the hands of You-Know-Who himself. It was safe to assume baby Harry would die that night also. But for some strange reason, the Killing Curse meant to end baby Harry's life, killed You-Know-Who instead.

Today, magical experts are still confounded how Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, survived. Experts believed that the Killing Curse…

--

Sirius angrily crumpled the Daily Prophet into a ball. He quickly stood up, and threw the paper into the fireplace. For a moment, he broodingly watched it burn. "Bloody hell! It's been fifteen years, and they still won't stop digging up the past," he furiously exclaimed.

Remus just calmly watched Sirius vent his anger. He understood that his friend was just frustrated, from the lack of result in their search for Harry. They used every known tracking charm. They had followed every possible lead. They double-checked all sightings, and rumors. They spent hours, looking for clues in newspaper, and magazine articles. No stone was proverbially left unturned. But, no matter how hard he and Sirius tried, they just couldn't get a break. He was starting to get an idea, what Tantalus felt.

"Calm down, Sirius," Remus said, trying to pacify his friend. "You know well enough, they won't stop publishing stories about Harry…" Remus' expression momentarily turned grave. "…especially now, Voldemort is back. At least, this will give the people hope."

"Yes, I understand all that." Sirius regarded his friend in annoyance. "It's just that I can't help worrying about Harry. And now he's back, they'll be expecting Harry to defeat him, yet again. What can a fifteen year old do?" Sirius grumpily sat down again, and stared moodily at the sleeping headmasters and headmistresses' portraits on the wall.

"Harry can probably do a lot, considering he defeated Voldemort when he was a baby," Remus gamely answered the rhetorical question. He paused for a moment, unsure if he should remind his friend. "It's going to be Harry's 16th birthday in three weeks. Are you going to ask Dumbledore again?"

"You bet. I'm going to ask him, again and again, until his ears bleed," Sirius replied gravely. With a frown creasing his brows, he briefly glanced at his friend. "And, I expect you to back me up."

Remus rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Don't I always? Besides, do I have a choice?"

Sirius gave his friend a grateful smile. "I'm sorry to get you involved on this one, Remus. As much as I like to refuse his request, I can't. He's the only one, who knows where Harry is."

"And, you want to ingratiate yourself on the headmaster, hoping he'll take pity on you, and tell you where Harry is." There was a crooked smile on Remus' face, after he summed up his friend's hidden motive.

"You know I won't stop, till I find him," Sirius softly replied, with a determined look on his face.

"It's alright, Sirius. James and Lily were also my friends." Remus was about to say more, when he suddenly heard faint footsteps. "Someone's coming."

They were unusually quiet when the door opened, and admitted Professor Dumbledore. He was followed by Neville, Ron, Hermione, Susan, Ginny, and Luna. Remus and Sirius slowly stood up.

"Children, you all know Professor Lupin, your former teacher in Defence Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore introduced amiably. The six students warmly greeted Remus. "I am sure you also know Auror Sirius Black." The students also warmly greeted the Aurorr. Then, the headmaster conjured chairs for the six students, before standing behind his desk.

"Everyone, please, have a seat." Dumbledore picked up his candy bowl, and offered it to his visitors. "Now, does anyone like a lemon drop?" Luna boldly stood up and took one. Everyone else looked at her in disbelief. "Aahh, you are truly a remarkable lady with a fine taste, Miss Lovegood."

Luna smiled sweetly. "Thank you, professor. But, you shouldn't say such sweet words to me in front of Ronald. He might get jealous."

"I will not!" Ron loudly objected. He blushed deeply at his outburst, after noticing the teasing smiles of his friends.

"Now, now, Mr. Weasley, there is no crime to being attracted to a beautiful and intelligent lady, is there?" Dumbledore teasingly said, looking at Ron above the rim of his eyeglasses. Embarrassed, Ron remained quiet, trying to disappear from his chair.

"Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore. May we know the reason you brought us here?" Hermione asked, intrigued. It was only the first week of summer, and they were back again in Hogwarts.

Dumbledore gave her a grandfatherly smile. "Well, Miss Granger… I would like to ask all of you, if you are interested to receive private training this summer." The six students were greatly surprised. At first, they just looked at the headmaster in disbelief. But, once they realized he was serious, they eagerly agreed. "Very good… Auror Black here has agreed to be your instructor. He will inform you of the date and place to train."

Dumbledore paused for a moment. "I have also been giving your study group a deep thought. And, I have decided to make it an extension of the Defence Against the Dark Arts." The six students happily smiled, again greatly surprised.

"Auror Black will also be our teacher in Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Neville inquired, trying to contain his excitement.

"Alas, no… I have asked someone else to fill that spot. However, Auror Black will still be your adviser in the Defense Association," Dumbledore said somberly. "I have to warn you. The DA, as you are fond of calling it, will not be exclusive to your group. It will be open to all houses from first to seventh-year students. Of course, different study schedules have to be made for each year. I leave Auror Black and your group to make the necessary adjustments."

"What about Slytherins?" Ron asked tensely. "Will you let them join?"

"Yes, Slytherins may join." Dumbledore answered calmly. The headmaster's office exploded with cries of protests. Some are louder than the others.

"But, professor, we have no idea if they can be trusted. Some of them helped Professor Umbridge propagate ignorance last school year." Hermione tried to control her temper, as she presented her complaint.

"Those slimy bastards will only spy on us!" Ron received an elbow from Hermione.

"Professor, surely we can screen the bad from the good Slytherins." Neville tried to be objective. But, his long tussle with Malfoy and the rest of Slytherins made it extremely hard.

They're all bad and evil Slytherins!" Ron received another elbow from Hermione.

"Neville is right. We can just refuse Slytherins, who are You-Know-Who sympathizers." Susan's suggestion sounded reasonable. But, her expression betrayed her inner thought.

"Are you joking? Think of the pranking possibility. This may be our only chance to prank them all at the same time." Ginny also received an elbow from Hermione.

"We can always put pixies in their robes to make them behave." No one could really tell, if Luna was serious, or not. Her expression remained neutral.

Dumbledore raised his right hand, to forestall anymore objection. "Very well, you made your point, and very loud ones at that," he said smiling. "You may help Auror Black remove from the list any Slytherin, who you think will cause trouble. Does everybody agree on that?" All the students reluctantly agreed.

"How about if we remove them from the DA list, after they caused trouble?" Remus suggested instead. "We could be alienating potential allies from Slytherins."

"No!" Ron objected quickly. "I like Professor Dumbledore's idea better. We should just get rid of them, before they cause any trouble."

Sirius, who remained quiet so far, made a suggestion. "Professor Dumbledore, since I'll be giving special training to these students, perhaps, we can include Harry. I'm confident I can ensure his safety." The six students curiously looked at Professor Dumbledore. Their eager faces clearly expressed, what they thought of the idea.

Dumbledore calmly held Sirius gaze for a moment. "I believe Mr. Potter is doing fine, wherever he is. I was told he is a very good student." Dumbledore pulled out an envelope from his desk drawer, and handed it to Sirius. "I was going to give this to you later. However, I think now is a good a time as any." Sirius quizzically examined the envelope.

"Inside that envelope is a copy of Harry's OWL result. Go ahead. Open it. I believe you will be most pleased," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling.

Sirius read the content, and smiled proudly. "Well, aren't you going to tell me his score?" Remus asked impatiently. Sirius merely handed the letter for him to read. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. He is, after all, the son of James and Lily."

"Please, sir, will you tell us his score," Hermione begged excitedly. The other students knowingly smiled at their friend's enthusiasm. Hermione just couldn't help compare her score with other students.

"Harry earned a total of seven OWLs, out of nine," Remus replied happily. "He received an O in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions; an E in Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures; an A in Astronomy. He failed Divination and History of Magic.

"Wow, I wish Harry studied here. He could have helped me with my classes," Ron said, impressed.

"And what have I been doing for you Ron? Hold your hand?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

"Well, no. You nagged me a lot about studying. And, you wouldn't let me read your essays," Ron answered, annoyed. Hermione just rolled her eyes. The others knowingly smiled…public display of affection.

"I believe it is time for you, children, to go home. There is so little time for you to enjoy summer, before you start training. Remus, would you please accompany them?" After bidding Dumbledore and Sirius farewell, Remus and the six students left the headmaster's office. Ron can be heard grumbling on the way out.

( ( o ) )

While walking down the corridor, Hermione fell in step with Remus and asked, "Professor Lupin, do you think Professor Dumbledore will agree with Auror Black's suggestion?"

"Please, call me Remus or Lupin. I'm not your professor anymore. As to your question… No… Professor Dumbledore will not agree. Sirius has been asking to see Harry for fifteen years now. If he didn't agree before, he wouldn't agree now. But, if I know Sirius, he's still probably asking him right now." They turned another corridor, and down a flight of stairs. The other students were listening attentively.

"Why is he so eager to see Harry Potter? He isn't one of those fanatical fans, is he?" Hermione asked curiously.

Remus smiled sadly. "No. But, he is fanatical…sometimes." Remus paused, as if deliberating something. "Sirius is Harry's godfather. When Harry's parents died, Sirius asked…no…demanded that Harry should stay with him. But for security reasons, Professor Dumbledore placed Harry with some unknown family. Except for Professor Dumbledore, nobody knows where he is."

"That's awful," Hermione said, appalled. "Professor Dumbledore should, at least, give Auror Black visitation rights. He has the right to get to know his godson." Hermione's sense of justice stirred the fire in her heart.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore did promise he will take Sirius to Harry next year. At least, that's something to look forward to," Remus pensively replied.

Luna found herself walking on Remus' left side. "My father said it's a conspiracy between the Headmaster and the Ministry. He said there is no Harry Potter," she said with a dreamy expression.

"That's ridiculous," Hermione quipped irritably. "How was You-Know-Who defeated, if he didn't exist?"

"Oh, he lived before. But, he doesn't live now. That's why we haven't seen any picture of him older than a baby," Luna explained, not bothered by Hermione's impatience.

"You haven't seen a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, but you believe it lives." Hermione pointed out in annoyance.

Luna thought about what Hermione said. "True."

They have reached the Great Hall, when Neville decided to speak. "Prof…I mean Remus. We promised to visit Fred and George's shop after the meeting. Would you mind if we go there first?"

"I don't know. Won't your parents expect you home after the meeting?" Remus asked quizzically.

"My mum expects us home before nightfall. She won't mind us visiting our brothers." Ginny gave a beatific smile. Ron vigorously reaffirmed, what his sister said. The others gave a jumble of excuses and reasons.

Remus thoughtfully regarded for a moment, before he made his decision. "Diagon Alley it is."

( ( o ) )

They entered Diagon Alley, and found themselves in a middle of frenzy. Witches and wizards were running toward Gringotts. At first, the group thought there was a Death Eater attack. Grabbing the arm of one witch, Ron nervously asked about the commotion.

"Harry Potter… Harry Potter is in Gringotts," the witch shouted hysterically. Her friends pulled her free, and they briskly walked toward Gringotts.

They curiously followed the crowd, but couldn't get any closer to Gringotts. The crowd started screaming, when a wizard in a very expensive dark-green cloak emerged. Hermione saw a wizard about one hundred eighty five centimeters tall. She thought he probably had an athletic body, judging by the fit of his muggle, designer clothes. The good-looking wizard had a sharp facial feature, and tanned skin. His eyes were green. He had straight, shoulder length, black hair, which slightly revealed his lightning bolt-shaped scar.

"Everybody, please, stop pushing," the supposedly Boy-Who-Lived said in a rich, baritone voice. He sounded, and looked irritated. "I will be more than happy to sign any autograph, if you will just give me some room."

Several cracks sounded down the road. The Aurors had arrived. They reached the crowd, and tried to break it up. Nobody liked to move. In fact, some wizards shoved back at the Aurors.

"Harry!" Hermione heard Remus shouted. "Harry, this way!" She saw Harry wonderingly looked around, until his gaze fell on them. Remus was waving madly. Harry glared at them for a moment, before his bodyguards guided him away from the panicked crowd.

"Come on. Let's go to Fred and George's shop." Remus' first thought was to tell Sirius. He used his inhuman strength to cut a path through the crowd.

The group reached the Weasley twins' joke shop, unscathed. After being swindled out of their winnings from the Quidditch World Cup, the twins concentrated on their owl-order service. Through hard work, and frugal living, they earned enough gold to buy a permit to set up shop. The joke shop was a joke. It was actually a 122 cm x 183 cm x 92 cm wooden box stand. It had a flat wood canopy with a sign "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes" in the front. Beneath that was a big handwritten sign, "Harry Potter's favorite joke shop". To call it a shop was another one of their weird sense of humor. At the moment, the joke stand was swamped with customers.

Remus anxiously turned to the six students. "I'm going back to Professor Dumbledore's office. Can I trust you to stay here until I get back?" They all promised. Remus hastily went to the Leaky Cauldron, and flooed to Hogwarts.

For a moment, the six students oddly watched their former teacher, until he disappeared from sight. Then, as one, they turned to look at the busy twins. "Oi! Fred, George, what's with all the people?" Ron called out to his brothers, astonished.

Fred, or was it George, looked up from the cash box. "Ronniekins, fancy meeting you here." He, then, spotted Ginny and Ron's other friends. "Great, you brought the gang with you. Come on you lot. Help us with these customers."

"What? In case you don't know, I don't work here," Ron answered, miffed.

"Well, you are for now," George said, while attending another customer.

Fred looked up again, and saw Ron with a dubious expression. "Why are you still standing there? Time's a wasting!"

"I'll take that job," Ginny quickly accepted. She gave Ron a sweet smile, before heading to a group of children, sampling the Flobberworm Gummies.

"Come on, Ron," Neville urged, pulling at the redhead's cloak. "We'll help too, right guys?" The other three students nodded their assent. For a while, they were busy. They were also busy preventing small children, from sampling adult category prank items. Soon, the shoppers thinned out, and they all took a breather.

"So, what brought the rush?" Neville casually asked the twins, as they didn't answer Ron's question earlier.

"Oh, you won't believe this." George's eyes were alight with excitement.

"Harry Potter…The Harry Potter was here a while ago." Fred was also bursting with excitement.

The six students dubiously looked at the Weasley twins. They couldn't decide, whether the twins were telling the truth, or not.

"We're not joking. Do you think we would make up something like this," George looked at them, as if he was personally insulted.

"Well, we probably will, dear brother," Fred cheekily contradicted his twin, but hastily added, "But not this time… Harry Potter was actually here."

"In fact, he bought some of our merchandise," George said cheerfully.

"And that's why we have people clamoring for our products," Fred stated candidly.

"You can't get any better endorsement than Harry Potter himself," George announced proudly.

"Like our sign says, 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is Harry Potter's favorite joke shop'," Fred declared pompously.

"Amen to that, dear brother," George solemnly agreed. "Amen to that."

Neville and the gang just shook their collective heads. There was no doubt in their minds the Weasley twins would milk this unexpected stroke of luck, till it dried up.

( ( o ) )

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts Castle, Remus was once again in the office of the headmaster. He was trying to pacify Sirius from yelling at Professor Dumbledore.

"Calm down, Sirius. From what I saw, he wasn't alone. He has guards with him," Remus pointed out.

"I don't care! He shouldn't be out there. What if the crowd became unruly, and grabbed him? Do you think those guards can protect him?" Sirius asked, and then, turned angrily at Dumbledore. "The guards… Are they Order members? Because if they are, why aren't we included?"

The headmaster calmly answered him, "They are not Order members. I cannot say anymore than that. As for Harry being in Diagon Alley, he made a request." Dumbledore sighed sadly before continuing, "I agreed because he threatened to go by himself. The guards were a compromise. I am sorry, Sirius, Remus. I didn't ask you both, because you could pose a distraction to the other guards."

Sirius, who was standing in the middle of the office, incredulously gaped at Dumbledore. "That's it. I have been patient with you, professor, for the last fifteen years. I want to see Harry right now! Do you hear me! I want to see him right now!"

Remus had a hard time pulling the enraged Auror towards the door. Truth be told, he would gladly join his friend berate Dumbledore. But, anger seldom solved anything. And, Dumbledore had too much power, and experience on his side to be moved by blustering, or threats. They would have to find another way to get Harry. One thing was undeniable. The headmaster would never give up Harry. They had to find another way…and soon.


	3. Harry Hunting

_Disclaimer: Characters of the Harry Potter saga are owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is written as a fan fiction. No right infringement is intended. Any similarity to other Harry Potter fan fictions is purely coincidental._

Summary: AU. Albus Dumbledore keeps a secret that may be the very downfall of the wizarding world. Will Voldemort learn of this secret, which Dumbledore values more than the prophecy? Or, will someone find out what it is?

--

Chapter 3: Harry Hunting

Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic, grimaced when his secretary informed him, that Dumbledore wanted to see him. He looked at the file of parchments he still hadn't read and signed. He heaved a sigh of frustration. As much as he liked to send the headmaster away, he wanted to know what machination the wily wizard was cooking up next. He handed the signed parchments to his secretary, and told her to rearrange his appointments, so as not to disturb his meeting with the headmaster.

Minister Scrimgeour was all smiles, when Hogwarts' headmaster entered his office. "Professor Dumbledore, this is a surprise. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?" he diplomatically asked, while guiding his visitor to a seat near a window.

"Minister, I would like to thank you, for taking the time to see me," Dumbledore kindly said, before sitting down. He politely accepted a cup of tea, and inhaled its sweet aroma. "Hmmm…heavenly. Minister, you must tell me where you get your tea. It is simply not fair, that you to have sole knowledge of the source."

Minister Scrimgeour smiled graciously, as he sat opposite the headmaster. "Ever since I became a minister, my life has always been under scrutiny. This is one of my simple pleasures, which I don't intend to share to the public."

"Even with me," Dumbledore asked with feign surprise.

"Even with you, Dumbledore," Minister Scrimgeour lightly bantered.

"Ahhh, but a tea this good is bound to be uncovered. Rest assured, it would not be by me," Dumbledore teasingly promised. There was a momentary lull in their conversation, as both wizards enjoyed their tea. "Minister…" Dumbledore began softly. "...The reason I came here is because I have an important proposal, I wish to discuss with you."

Minister Scrimgeour tried to keep his expression neutral. He carefully set his cup of tea on the table, and gave the headmaster his full attention. "What is this important proposal, Dumbledore?" he disinterestedly asked

The headmaster took a careful sip of his tea to hide a small smile. In spite of the minister's cool façade, Dumbledore knew the minister was very intrigued. "Harry Potter," Dumbledore said simply.

"Go on…I'm listening," Minister Scrimgeour neutrally urged. In his mind, however, he was constantly trying to divine Dumbledore's motive. He had a feeling the headmaster was planning something. Otherwise, Dumbledore wouldn't even consider discussing The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"As you are well aware, Mr. Potter was nearly mobbed by his adoring fans two days ago. Thanks to the prompt action of your Aurors, a certain chaos was averted." Dumbledore paused to sip his tea. "What I propose is for you to provide security for Mr. Potter, whenever he is in a public place. In return, Mr. Potter will help you fight the threat of Lord Voldemort."

The minister flinched, when the name of You-Know-Who was mentioned. For a moment, he considered Dumbledore's proposal. It was too good to out rightly accept. But, it would be foolish to out rightly refuse, either. It would surely solidify his image as a competent minister, and at the same time, project a stable Ministry. On the other hand, he couldn't ignore the warning bells, loudly ringing at the back of his mind.

"The Aurors can protect the Ministry, and the populace. I don't need Mr. Potter's help to fight You-Know-Who, and his Death Eaters. What can he possibly do against You-Know-Who?" Minister Scrimgeour irately asked. He couldn't help think, that Dumbledore considered him inadequate to deal with the Dark Lord.

"Remember, minister… Harry Potter defeated Lord Voldemort, when he was a baby. Where would the Ministry for Magic be, if it were not for Mr. Potter? I am sure you are aware, that the wizarding world views Mr. Potter, as a savior…a beacon of hope," Dumbledore reminded the minister, before leisurely taking a sip of his tea.

"Dumbledore, must you always speak You-Know-Who's name?" Minister Scrimgeour asked in annoyance. He had a feeling the headmaster was doing it deliberately. To what end, he hadn't a clue.

"Minister, it is but a name. It has no power in, and of itself," Dumbledore replied solemnly.

Minister Scrimgeour studied the headmaster's expression, hoping to glimpse the inner working of this powerful wizard's mind. "Tell me, Dumbledore…. What do you hope to gain from this proposal? Surely, you're not just doing this out of the goodness of your heart? After all, you have kept the secret of Harry Potter's whereabouts with almost…fanatical paranoia."

Dumbledore laughed merrily. With his eyes twinkling, he said, "If you are thinking, minister, I have an ulterior motive. I assure you… I have none. I just realize Mr. Potter's fans can attack him, as easily as Death Eaters. I offer you this proposal to ensure the safety of Mr. Potter… nothing more."

"What did Mr. Potter say to your proposal?" Minister Scrimgeour suspiciously asked.

"If Mr. Potter is here, I am sure he will tell you the same thing. I believe he understood his importance to the wizarding world." Dumbledore knew Minister Scrimgeour would not be easily convinced. Scrimgeour might be ambitious, but he was also a cautious man.

"Before I give you my answer, I want to personally talk with Mr. Potter. I want to hear his views on the matter." With that said, Minister Scrimgeour stood up.

Dumbledore placed his cup on the table, and slowly stood up. "I shall let him know. Good day, minister."

( ( o ) )

After conversing with Harry Potter, Minister Scrimgeour gave his full support. The wizarding world applauded the collaborative efforts, between Harry Potter and the Ministry, against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Dumbledore, on the other hand, continued to work tirelessly to promote the image of The-Boy-Who-Lived. He truly believed the well-being of the wizarding world defended on it. In one sense, he was right. Voldemort and his Death Eaters were mostly preoccupied, in finding Harry Potter's hiding place. In another, he was wrong. He was torturing two innocent souls, whose only crime was to love the son of James and Lily Potter.

Dumbledore also tossed tidbits of information, anonymously of course, to different wizard newspapers and magazines. This created fandom the likes of which had never been seen, since the time of the four Hogwarts' Founders. The headmaster himself would sometimes _accidentally_ get fooled into admitting certain facts. Little by little the wizarding world had a rough profile of The-Boy-Who-Lived. What he liked. What he disliked. What was his favorite color? What was his favorite food? What he liked in a witch. Wizards and Witches everywhere lapped it all up.

( ( o ) )

In a hidden cave, south of the British Isle overlooking the English Channel, a large group of Death Eaters listened attentively to their snake-like leader…Lord Voldemort.

"My loyal Death Eaters, you and I know the great, magical blood that flows in our veins. For countless years, our blood has remained pure, untainted by lesser creatures. This purity of blood made us above muggles, mudbloods, half-bloods, and other magical creatures. We are the superior beings. It is only right to claim, what is rightfully ours. The whole world belongs to us. Everyone else who lives in it must serve us, or die."

There was a loud cheering. The ground trembled, and the air was saturated with dark magic. In the middle of this wild abandon, Voldemort basked at the adulation of his devout followers. Voldemort raised his voice once more.

"Tonight, my loyal followers, you will remind the wizarding world, that Lord Voldemort is alive and well. You will go out, and kill everyone who dares oppose me. You will show them, that no one is safe from my power and might. Now, go my faithful servants!"

The Death Eaters in groups of fives and tens, used portkeys to reach their destination. When the cave chamber was empty, Voldemort tapped a stalagmite, and a hidden door opened. An adjoining cave, much like the Chamber of Secrets, was revealed. In the middle of this cave, a lone Death Eater was slightly bent over a large, black cauldron. He was busy stirring, and carefully adding ingredients to a potion. When completed, it would be used to summon Harry Potter, even under any kind of protection wards.

Voldemort stood across the Death Eater, impatiently waiting for some progress report. When none was forthcoming, Voldemort irately asked, "Severus… Is it ready?"

"It is not yet ready, my lord," Snape answered softly, without even taking his eyes off the potion. He continued to carefully stir, and closely watch the subtle color change.

"How close are you to completion, Severus?" Voldemort asked coolly.

"Not long now, my lord," Snape replied vaguely.

Normally, Voldemort wouldn't stand for any show of insolent behavior from his Death Eaters. But this time, he allowed Snape certain latitude. He didn't want to distract his Potions Master, and ruin months of hard work.

Somehow, Dumbledore managed to find a way to completely hide the half-blood Potter boy from him. No trickery, spy, or charm seemed to work. Until finally, his stupidest follower, Wormtail, made a stupidest suggestion… summon Harry Potter to him. After years of failure, he thought another one wouldn't make a difference. So, he assigned his expert Death Eaters in Charms, ancient rituals, Runes, and ancient writings to research the summoning ritual for the living. They had to cross-reference everything from a simple summoning charm, to summoning the dead, to summoning the devil, until they finally found a viable formula. They called it, _Evocates Anima_.

It took five months to brew the right potion. And, it took the same number of months to acquire the most important ingredient…the blood of Harry Potter. Voldemort couldn't believe that Dumbledore would be so stupid. The old fool was completely convinced that Severus was on his side. Well, his stupidity would be his downfall.

"My lord…" The insipid voice of the Potions Master interrupted Voldemort's thought. "…The potion is ready for the last ingredient."

"Very good, Severus… If your potion works, you will be richly rewarded," Voldemort generously said with a malicious smile. Snape couldn't help shiver at the evil visage. He bowed in acknowledgement while stepping away from the cauldron, and out of the rune covered pentagram on the floor. He stood to one side of the cave, and contemplated the honor, which would be heaped upon him.

Voldemort took out the vial, containing Harry Potter's blood. He carefully poured the blood into the concoction, and indifferently threw away the vial. When the potion started to bubble, Voldemort took out his wand, and pointed it at the viscous brew. He chanted an incantation in Parseltongue, which would deliver The-Boy-Who-Lived to his hands.

His voice rose in crescendo. Black smoke billowed out of the cauldron, and formed a dark cloud on the cave roof. Lightning crackled, and sounds of thunder reverberated on the cave walls. A gale force wind began to swirl around the cave. Torch lights were blown out. Snape wedged himself between stalagmites, fearing for his life. Voldemort was unaffected inside the pentagram. He continued to chant, until a lightning bolt streaked out of the cauldron.

Both, Voldemort and Snape, instinctively raised their arms to protect themselves, when the cauldron exploded in a bright, white light. The bright light slowly faded, and the cave slipped into darkness. Everything was calm and silent. Torch lights automatically lit up. Voldemort couldn't contain his excitement, as he slowly lowered his arms. He carefully surveyed his surroundings, expecting to find the cowering figure of the The-Boy-Who-Lived. His triumphant smile slowly turned sour. He didn't see Harry Potter. His attention was immediately drawn to a rustling sound in one corner of the cave. He saw Snape unsteadily trying to stand up.

"Severus…" Voldemort menacingly called out, while he beckoned the Potions Master to come closer. Snape, in spite of his Occlumency training, swallowed fearfully. He slowly walked toward his master, and diffidently kneeled down, tensely waiting. He knew there was no way out of the punishment that was soon to follow. "…I must congratulate you on the most remarkable light show. It would have been amazing, if it brought me Harry Potter. Would you care to tell me what went wrong?" Voldemort asked forebodingly.

"My sincerest apology, my lord…" Snape started nervously. "…I have no idea why it failed. I have carefully examined every ingredient in the potion, including the blood of Harry Potter. You, yourself, were present when I verified the authenticity of the blood."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me it is my fault, Severus?" he threateningly asked.

Snape, realizing his blunder, thought fast to placate the Dark Lord. "Not at all, my lord... I… I was only trying to point out, that Dumbledore somehow managed to fool me. I should have asked for more samples."

"Yes… yes, you should have," Voldemort agreed patronizingly. "It was quite brilliant of him to provide you with the blood of an infant Harry Potter. That could have been what threw the ritual off. Nevertheless, you should have accounted for that deviation. _Crucio!_"

Snape was caught unprepared. He screamed in pain, and writhed in agony. His thought and being concentrated on one thing and one thing only… pain. The punishment lasted for several seconds. Snape's body was still twitching on the floor, even when the Cruciatus Curse was lifted.

Voldemort had sated his lust for cruelty. "You and your fellow Death Eaters never seemed to learn your lesson. I do not condone failure. Now go back to Hogwarts, and find Harry Potter."

Snape listened dully to the fading sound of the Dark Lord's footsteps. He was left struggling to stand up. His eyes gleamed with pain, and anger. Dumbledore had made a fool of him. He had been deceived by the old man's senile and feeble acts. Snape laboriously walked out of the cave, thinking of various ways to get revenge on the headmaster.

( ( o ) )

Old man Brett was furiously cursing his luck, as he continued to hike on the muddy path of Godric's Hollow Cemetery. This was one of those times he wished he wasn't a squib. He couldn't understand what happened. It was a clear, star-filled night. Then, all of a sudden, a thick, black cloud formed. And now, a heavy rain was pouring. The stupid lantern wasn't any help either. He couldn't see past a meter. He, now, regretted not bringing a muggle flashlight.

Lightning bolts crisscrossed across the sky. Thunder boomed so loud, it was enough to wake up even the dead. One big lightning bolt streaked down from the sky. Old man Brett was awed. He'd never seen lightning bolt, hit so close. He turned towards the direction of the lightning strike. He was concerned it might have damaged something. After a while, he noticed the sky suddenly cleared. The stars were once again twinkling in the night sky.

When he reached the hilltop, he stopped to catch his breath. He quietly stood there for a few minutes, just enjoying the view. Some people made fun of his macabre sense of beauty. He didn't care. The cemetery had a beauty all of its own. He was about to turn back, deciding to inspect any damage tomorrow, when he spotted a figure stumbling its way through the cemetery. He warily walked down the hill to get a better look. From the cover of a bush, he found out it was a human…a naked human. For a minute, he nervously thought it might be a Zombie, or a Vampire, even worst, a Death Eater.

For a moment, old man Brett grappled between self-preservation, and his strong sense of duty. His dedication to his work won. Old man Brett burst out from his hiding place. "Oi! You! Stop right there!" he fearfully called out loud. The person, who he noticed was partially covered in mud, suddenly stopped, slowly turned around, and faced him. He was surprised to see a boy…no…a teenage boy. He sighed with great relief. Released from his crippling fear, his anger mounted as he rapidly asked his questions. "Who are you? What are you doing here? You're one of those nasty boys from the village, aren't you? Have you no shame, parading around naked? What evil deeds have you been doing in my graveyard?"

The teenager seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then, he turned around, and ran until darkness swallowed him.

"Oi! You get back here! Don't think I won't recognize you! I know what your bum looks like!" old man Brett yelled angrily. "Teenagers these days… No respect for the dead."

The grave-keeper retraced the strange boy's muddy footprints. He was so busy cursing his bad luck; he forgot to watch where he was going. The next thing he knew. He was lying face down in a hole with a mouthful of mud. The profanity that broke the silence of the cemetery was so crude, sensitive ghosts would have blushed.

( ( o ) )

It was already the fourth week of July, 1996. In spite of the danger that was gripping the wizarding world, it was still business as usual at Diagon Alley. Shop keepers, buyers, peddlers, panhandlers, squibs, and goblins alike were busy conducting their businesses. Fred and George of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes were no different.

At the moment, there was a short line of Harry Potter look-alikes, in front of their joke stand. Shop keepers and bystanders were amused at the spectacle they presented. Fred was sitting on top of a barrel on the sidewalk. He was busy conducting interviews to hopeful applicants. Meanwhile, George was busy selling their products. Sometimes, George would replace Fred to give him a break. By lunch time, all the applicants were gone. They temporarily put up a close sign to discuss their selections.

"So, what do you think?" Fred was pointing to George two names on the list of applicants, who could work for them. The lucky candidate would be their helper, as well as promotional figure.

"I don't know. They lack something. They just don't feel right," George hesitantly replied.

"You do realize that we have been interviewing applicants for three days now," Fred reminded his brother. "Don't forget. This is a promotional advertisement. Our Harry Potter doesn't have to be like the real Harry Potter. We just need a prop to promote our products."

George sighed in frustration. "Do you think I don't know that? It's just that we have something good here…something special that comes once in a lifetime. I just don't want to muck it up." There was a moment of silence, as they considered other options.

"We can ask Lee," Fred suggested after some thought.

"Do you think he will leave his cushy job in the Ministry, just to work under the heat of the sun?" George asked rhetorically. They both shook their heads.

"What about Angelina, Alicia or Katie?" Fred suggested with a hopeful expression.

"Boy-Who-Lived…" George reminded him. "…Have you ever seen Harry Potter walk with a swaying hip? Now that's a thought. It could be interesting." Both twins had a big mischievous grin on their faces.

"That's it then," Fred said with resignation. "I guess one of us has to use a Glamour Charm,"

George didn't hear him. There was a faraway look in his eyes, when someone caught his attention. "Not so fast, dear brother. I think we may have a last minute applicant." Fred turned around to see what his brother was looking at.

Walking toward them was a teenage boy, wearing muggle clothes. He was a bit shorter than The-Boy-Who-Lived, thin, and a little pale. He got a messy, black hair, and wearing black, wire-rimmed eyeglasses. As he stood on the other side of their joke stand, they could slightly see a sore, lightning bolt-shaped scar. It was a very convincing. The best they had seen so far. The twins also noticed his green eyes…eyes like emeralds. But, what drew their attention was the sadness in their depths. It was as if he was remembering losing loved ones. Then, shutters seemed to close. His eyes now held plain curiosity.

The twins briefly looked at each other, and nodded. An unspoken agreement seemed to pass between them. "You're hired!"

"I am?" asked the teenager in surprise.

"Yes, you are… Congratulations!" the twins said simultaneously.

Then, Fred welcomingly beckoned the teenager. "Come on. Join us back here."

When the youth was standing before them, George cheerfully extended his right hand. "I'm George, and this is my brother Fred. What's your name?"

"Harry…Harry Evans," the teenager uncertainly replied, shaking George, and then, Fred's hand.

"Isn't that a lucky coincidence?" George asked with a friendly smile. "We're looking for a Harry, and we got Harry. Now, how are three galleons a week sound to you?"

"And, when can you start?" Fred added hastily also with a friendly smile.

"Fine… I guess," Harry agreed uncertainly. "I can start now, if you like."

"Excellent," George beamed happily. "Welcome to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

Fred handed him an old, black cloak. "You can wear this one for now. Give it back, when you have your own cloak."

"Each item has its own price tag." George pointed at the different joke items. "If somebody asks you a question, and you don't know the answer, just refer them to me or Fred."

"Watch out for small children." Fred stowed the close sign inside the stand's compartment. "They're sneaky little buggers. They'll snatch anything, when you're not looking."

"You take the first customer. Let's see how you handle it," George said casually, opening a parchment to take inventory.

"Price tags… You answer all questions… Look out for small children," Harry repeated quietly, as he donned the cloak. He nervously combed his errant hair away from his eyes with his right hand. He didn't realize, his scar was now in plain sight.

"Excuse me… Are these Flobberworm Gummies safe for small children?" asked a female voice suspiciously. Harry faced his first customer with a friendly smile. He noticed the customer's eyes settled on his scar. "Oh my word…" the witch gasped in disbelief. "You're Harry Potter!"

How that declaration was heard amidst the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley, was anybody's guess. No one even knew why the witch believed the teenage boy was Harry Potter. Shoppers and bystanders within three meters paused, and stared. Some moved closer to investigate. Soon, words spread that Harry Potter was in Diagon Alley. By now, a large crowd had formed around Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes joke shop, clamoring to see The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Fred and George were at the end their wits, trying to find a way to disperse the crowd. Fortunately for them, Harry had the presence of mind to hide. Once in a while, they could be heard yelling, "That boy is not Harry Potter! He is not The-Boy-Who-Lived! Harry Potter is not here!" But, the more they denied it. The more the crowd demanded to see The-Boy-Who-Lived. In the end, it took a team of Aurors to disperse the unruly crowd.

( ( o ) )

The Burrow was not your typical house. It was old and rustic. And, any muggle, who could see it, would definitely say it's in great need of repair. But, whatever it lacked in appearance, it made up in loving, and relaxed atmosphere. For the moment, inside the kitchen, the atmosphere was anything, but loving or relaxed.

Arthur Weasley, the patriarch of the Weasley family, sat quietly at the head of the table. Once in a while, he would sigh, and cast his twins a disappointed look. Molly Weasley, the matriarch of the family, was busy preparing tea. She could be heard mumbling, "Irresponsible… One toe out of line… Ridiculous idea." They just came from the office of Madam Amelia Bones. Charges were dropped, and any punishment was left to the discretion of Mr. Weasley.

"Boys…" Mr. Weasley calmly began. "What you did was very wrong. Why didn't you ask me first, whether it was okay to hire a Harry Potter look-alike? You could have been mauled by that angry crowd. You were very lucky you got away with only a fine."

"But, dad, we were not breaking any Ministry law," Fred argued.

"Evans doesn't even closely resemble Harry Potter," George added.

"You, two, be quiet, and let your father speak," Mrs. Weasley admonished angrily. She set a cup of tea in front of her husband, and sat down at his right opposite the twins.

"Where's ours?" Fred asked wonderingly, but lapsed into silence, when his mother glared at him.

"Fred, George, I understand what you did was a business venture, with a little bit of pranking in mind, maybe. But, you have to understand, not all wizards and witches share your kind of humor, especially when it concerns Harry Potter." Mr. Weasley looked closely at his sons, trying to gauge their feelings. "Now, I want you to promise me never to use any Harry Potter look-alike to promote your products."

"But, Arthur…" Mr. Weasley just raised his right hand, to forestall whatever his wife was going to say.

"We promise, dad," the twins said at the same time. Mr. Weasley noticed their regretful expressions. They didn't fool him one bit.

"Very good, you may go." Mr. Weasley fondly watched his two sons leave. He knew it wouldn't take long, before the twins found themselves in another trouble.

As soon as the kitchen door closed, Mrs. Weasley turned to her husband, frowning. "Arthur, why didn't you just tell them to close shop, and find a decent job in the Ministry?" she asked heatedly.

Mr. Weasley reached out, and lovingly held his wife's hands. "Molly, I can't do what you asked. You and I know that the joke shop is their lifelong dream. They're not that different from Bill, Charlie or Percy who followed their dreams. Let's just let them follow their own path. And hopefully, they'll learn from their mistakes."

( ( o ) )

When the twins left the kitchen, they walked straight to the door leading outside. They heard Ron asked, "Where are you two jokers going now?" He was playing chess with Neville. They saw Ginny sitting on a sofa, reading a magazine. They knew the three teenagers were eavesdropping. They saw the Extendable Ears, while they were in the kitchen.

"No time to talk, Ronniekins," Fred yelled back.

"We have places to go, business to mind," George also yelled back.

They headed to the back of their tool shed, where their joke stand was parked. They warily looked around, making sure nobody was spying on them. George, then, bent down to remove the lock, and opened the biggest compartment.

"You can come out now. The coast is clear." Harry stuck his head out. With slight difficulty, he managed to crawl out of the compartment.

"Thanks. I was wondering when are you going to let me out. I was beginning to feel claustrophobic," Harry said, while stretching his cramped muscles.

"Clostro… What? Never mind. Sorry we can't let you out sooner," Fred said apologetically.

"Yeah, we were neck deep in trouble…Ministry kind of trouble." George grimaced at the memory.

"I'm sorry I got you, two, in trouble." Harry forlornly sat on the grass, resting his back on the joke stand.

"It wasn't your fault. It was our idea to begin with. You're just an employee." Fred also sat down on the grass facing Harry.

"Yeah, we were so sure we would attract more customers." George joined them. He mechanically started picking blades of grass.

"Actually, we did. The only problem was, they were buying the idea of Harry Potter, not the joke items," Fred said smiling at the irony.

"What happens now? Are your business permit going to be revoked?" Harry asked with concern.

"No. Our dad bailed us out. We got a slap on the wrist." Fred unconsciously rubbed his wrist, as if it was really hurting.

"And, what a strong slap it was. It will set us back two, maybe three years," George monotonously said. He was now angrily tearing the grass.

"Does this mean I'm out of job?" Harry asked uncertainly. The twins slowly nodded their heads, without looking at him. Silence descended on the trio. Each one lost in his own thoughts.

Harry surreptitiously looked at the crestfallen twins. Not really sure how it would turn out, he decided to offer a solution. "Look mates… I know you just met me. But, if you'll let me, I like to help." Both, Fred and George stared at him. Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his cloak. At the way the twins were looking at him, he felt like he was under a microscope. "Uhm…My parents set aside a bit of money for my…school expenses. Perhaps, I can invest some of it in your business."

The twins looked at each other. A consensus seemed to pass between them. "It will take at least two thousand galleons. We can pay the Ministry fine, and still have enough money to properly open a joke shop." George looked Harry in the eye. "Are you sure you want to invest your money with us. There are other joke shops. Competition will be tough."

Harry smiled broadly. "I'm sure. I have a strong feeling you will be successful."

"_We_ will be successful, partner," both, Fred and George cheerfully said. They all shook hands to seal the deal.

A/N: _Evocates Anima_ roughly means summoning the living.


	4. The Doppelganger pt 1

_Disclaimer: Characters of the Harry Potter saga are owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is written as a fan fiction. No right infringement is intended. Any similarity to other Harry Potter fan fictions is purely coincidental._

Summary: AU. Albus Dumbledore keeps a secret that may be the very downfall of the wizarding world. Will Voldemort learn of this secret which Dumbledore values more than the prophecy? Or, will someone find out what it is?

--

Chapter 4: The Doppelganger pt. 1

Harry stood shivering in the cold, moonlit night. He looked around him, confused. He was surrounded by gravestones, statues, and tombs. He momentarily looked at himself. He was naked, and slightly covered with mud. He, then, noticed the hole he crawled out off the wet ground. It only took him seconds to realize, he actually died and was buried. His conversation with his Uncle Max wasn't a dream. It was real. He, then, curiously searched for his gravestone. He knew it was kind of morbid. But, he wanted to read the epitaph. He didn't find one, or any grave marker for that matter. For a moment, he grimly looked at his unmarked grave. It seemed his _family_ didn't think much of him. Ignoring the cold breeze and wet ground, he uncaringly walked away.

"Oi! You! Stop right there!"

Harry had been walking for a while, when he heard the shout. He stopped, and slowly turned around. He nervously searched the ground, until he spotted the owner of the voice. It was an old man, probably in his eighties. Harry relaxed a little. He was glad it wasn't a Hit Wizard. He guessed the old bloke was the grave-keeper. He wasn't sure, but he hoped the grave-keeper could help him.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? You're one of those nasty boys from the village, aren't you? Have you no shame, parading around naked? What evil deeds have you been doing in my graveyard?"

Harry noticed the old man walked with a limp. And, he sounded very angry. As the old man walked closer, Harry also noticed he looked nervous. He couldn't imagine why. The old man kept talking as he walked closer. Harry was beginning to have second thought. After a few moments of uncertainty, he decided the grave-keeper wouldn't be a good listener. So, he turned around, and ran as fast as he could.

"Oi! You get back here! Don't think I won't recognize you! I know what your bum looks like!"

( ( o ) )

Luna Lovegood was oblivious to all the decorative statues and gravestones she passed. She just visited her mum's grave. She knew it was dangerous to go alone, but she went anyway. She couldn't ask her father, because she already knew what his answer was going to be. So, to avoid any unpleasant disagreement, she sneaked out. She only hoped her father wouldn't be cross with her, again. After all, it was her mother's death anniversary.

She reached the corner of a rather large mausoleum, when something slammed into her from her left side. She fell on her arse, with a cry of surprise. Although her bottom was aching from the hard fall, she tried to see what hit her. From the light provided by the bright full moon, she saw a person…a dirty, naked person, lying not too far from her. Their accidental collision must have thrown the other person on the ground too.

She achingly stood up. At the same time, she fumblingly brought out her wand. She nervously pointed it at the stranger. For a moment, she was undecided whether to run, or wait to see if the other person was alright. She saw the other person briefly shook his head, before looking back at her over his left shoulder. The boy slowly stood up, and faced her. His hands were covering his private. Her eyes curiously traveled from his big toes, paused at his dirty hands, before looking straight at his confuse and wary face.

"Luna?" the boy asked, uncertainly.

"Yes?" she answered warily. She took a couple of steps backward in case the boy decided to jump her.

"Wait! Don't run!" The boy quickly raised his right hand, as if he was going to grab her. But, he also immediately put it down. He obviously remembered, he was trying to cover something. "It's me… Harry. I need your help," he said earnestly. Then, he briefly glanced at her wand. "You don't really need that. I'm harmless, as you can see."

The boy, named Harry, self-consciously smiled at her. She suspiciously studied him for a moment. And then, an embarrassing memory from her childhood sprung to mind. It wasn't actually the embarrassing event that was memorable. It was the rhyme the other children were chanting, while teasing her. In an unconscious volition, she softly recited the rhyme. "I see London, I see France…" She awkwardly stopped, when she realized she was reciting the rhyme out loud.

The boy, Harry, just quirkily smiled at her. "Yeah… Well… You're definitely looking at the whole world right now."

Luna was secretly impressed with the naked boy's confident manner. If it was Ronald or Neville, they would have run for cover by now. "Not really," she replied with a shy smile. "You're covering Ireland." She heard the boy chuckle.

"Well, you'll have to see that part of the world some other time," the boy, Harry, said mischievously. Luna helplessly blushed. After that, there was an awkward moment of silence. "So, will you help me, Luna? I really need your help right now."

Luna warily studied the boy's face. "How did you know my name?"

"What?" The boy looked at her in disbelief. "How did I know your name? Why won't I know your name? We were introduced. Don't you remember?" Luna slowly shook her head. She was beginning to feel confuse herself. The boy deeply sighed, looking disappointed. "Fine… Play dumb. I guess I should have expected this. I'm a wanted man after all."

Luna nervously tightened her grip on her wand a little. But, the naked boy just turned around. With the threat of danger moving away, she slowly lowered her wand. For a moment, she was fascinated by the movement of his tight bottom. But, after a few steps, the naked boy suddenly stopped, and walked back toward her. She immediately aimed her wand at the boy again.

The boy, Harry, stopped short. "Hey… There's really no need for that. I'm not going to hurt you." The boy nervously smiled at her. Luna uncertainly lowered her wand. "Thank you," he said, sounding relieve. "This may sound odd, but…do you happen to know which way is London?"

Luna pointed at the direction of the full moon, which was slightly behind the boy's right. He looked towards the direction she was pointing. With the light of the moon shining directly on him, she realized the smudges on his face were not all dirt. There were also traces of dry blood on his cheeks. She judged him to be at the same age as Neville and Ronald.

The boy, Harry, turned his attention back to her. He smiled gratefully. "Thanks." He was about to leave, when he seemed to remember something else. "One more thing… Do you also know where the bus stop is?"

"Yes." Luna noticed the boy slightly shivered. She took pity on him. "You must feel very cold by now." She saw him nod briefly. She apologetically smiled. "I wish I can conjure some clothes for you. But, I'm not allowed to do magic during summer." And then, an idea struck her. Immediately, she pulled off the black cloak she was wearing, and handed it to him. "This should modestly cover you, until you find suitable clothes."

The boy smiled gratefully. "Thanks." Luna interestedly looked every which way, but Harry's direction. "I'm done. Well, how do I look?"

What she saw almost made her laugh out loud. The cloak looked short and small on his tall, thin frame. "Like a wizard," she replied kindly, guessing he was one. She, then, raised her wand head high, with the tip pointing up. She noticed Harry tensed slightly.

BANG!!

Harry jumped in surprise as a big, purple bus suddenly appeared behind him. The door of the bus opened, and a pimply man, wearing a shabby conductor's uniform, stepped out. "Where to Miss?" he asked in a bored voice.

"Home," Luna answered simply.

The conductor raised his right eyebrow quizzically. "And, where is home, Miss?"

Luna, then, expectantly looked at Harry. The conductor also turned to him, baffled. Harry quizzically looked at Luna. It took a second or two, before he caught on. "Oh… Uhm… Wicker Farm in Leighton. Do you stop there?"

The conductor smiled proudly. "We stopped anywhere in England, except in water." The conductor leaned close to Harry, and conspiratorially whispered, "Ern hates to get wet, you see." He, then, stood straight, nodding in satisfaction. "Alright then… My name's Stan Shunpike. Welcome to the Knight Bus."

( ( o ) )

"Hoottt…"

The owl swiveled its head almost one hundred eighty degrees. It repeated the same movement, but this time, in the opposite direction. Owls were common in Leighton. But, what was uncommon was this owl's coloration. It was snowy white. One would think it should have shed its white feathers, since winter was long past. But, this owl was different. This owl was hatched with snowy white feathers. And, after years of captivity, it got a chance to escape, before eating a meal. So, it was very hungry.

Since nightfall, the owl kept a vigilant eye for a fat, juicy rat. After a long while, its patience was rewarded. A fat, juicy rat crept out of its burrow. It was very cautious, at first. It constantly sniffed the air for hidden predator, before setting out to look for food. The rat's foraging led it to an open dirt path. It stopped. It found a rotting fruit on the ground. The owl wasted no time. It slowly spread its wings, gracefully let itself fall, and silently glided toward its prey.

BANG!!

The rat was run over by a big, purple bus that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The owl quickly veered right, before it hit the bus' windshield. It circled high in the night sky to see the fate of its dinner. Suddenly, the bus' door opened, and a human with a messy, black hair unsteadily stepped out. Thinking it was the culprit for losing its dinner; the owl nose-dived.

Harry unsteadily stood beside the bus, near Luna's window. "Thanks again for helping me." He smiled charmingly, despite the nerve-wracking trip. "I hope you'll let me buy you lunch, when we go to Diagon Alley."

Luna smiled shyly. "If you like." Then, she saw something dropped on Harry's head.

"What the…" Harry wonderingly touched the top of his head. When he inspected his hand, he saw a gooey, whitish substance. "What is this?" He brought it near his nose, and smelled it. It was bird dropping. He curiously looked up, and immediately saw an owl heading his way. He got a sudden feeling the owl was going to drop another one on him. "Oh, shite." Worried, he started walking backward, keeping one eye on the fast approaching owl. "Bye, Luna. See you soon." Then, he turned around, and ran home as fast as he could.

"Bye, Harry!" cried Luna, waving goodbye.

"That is one weird boy," Stan commented, amusedly shaking his head. "Never seen anyone spent so much time rolling on the floor, as much as he did."

"I guess." Luna thoughtfully watched Harry as he disappeared into the night. The snowy, white owl was determinedly following him. She was very curious. She couldn't remember ever meeting Harry. But, he talked to her as if they knew each other for quite a while. Granted they didn't talk much during the trip. He mostly rolled around on the floor. As the Knight Bus revved its engine again, she wondered if Harry found it fun. She decided to try it on her trip home.

( ( o ) )

Harry didn't stop running, until he saw his house from a distance. He quickly hid behind a big tree, and carefully searched the night sky. He didn't see any sign of the mad owl. He breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, he wondered why the owl showed aggression to him. He couldn't remember hurting any owl before. "It's probably gone mad from accidentally eating a diseased rat. Yeah, that must be it." Carefully searching the night sky again, he still saw no sign of the mad owl. Confident he lost the flying demon, he continued on his way home.

Unlike the last time, Harry didn't immediately go inside his house. He learned his lesson. He carefully observed it first from a safe, hidden distance. As far as he could tell, there was no one around. Everything was quiet. The sitting room light was on. But, he could easily explain that. He didn't get the chance to turn it off. He warily walked toward the left side of his house, constantly looking around him. He stopped underneath his second floor, bedroom window. He could have used the front door. But, caution prevailed. After making sure no one was watching, he started to climb up. Unknown to him, calmly perched on a branch of a cherry tree, a snowy white owl was quietly watching his progress.

Harry was a little surprise, when he found his window unlock. With a soft grunt, he managed to squeeze through. But, instead of landing on the floor, as he expected, he landed on a soft bed. "Damn, someone moved my bed." With the help from the light of the full moon, he gave his room a quick look. He noticed a big difference. The walls were lined with stuff dolls and pictures. There was more furniture. He quizzically sniffed the air. And, it smelled…nice, too. Someone was using his bedroom.

He slowly got off the bed, and quietly moved around the room. He carefully picked up a small, ceramic unicorn, and curiously studied it. Suddenly, the door opened, and the light went on. He quickly turned around, still holding the unicorn figurine. A girl, in a white, sleeping gown, holding a stuff unicorn, stood just inside the doorframe. She didn't notice him yet, because she was talking to her unicorn doll. Harry immediately looked around him, frantically searching for a place to hide. But then, the girl looked up, and saw him...

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"No, no, no, don't scream. I'm not going to hurt you," Harry begged anxiously. He slowly approached the little girl, but not closed enough to scare her some more, or so he thought.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"Please, please, don't scream. I'm not going to hurt you…really." Harry slowly went down on one knee to be on the girl's eye level. He tried to show the girl she's in no danger by smiling. But, it didn't work. The girl was scared out of her wits.

"Marie Rose, honey, what is going on?" A light, blond-haired woman with curlers on head appeared behind the little girl. She abruptly stopped in fright, when she saw him.

"MUM! MUM! THERE'S A MAN IN MY ROOM!" The girl screamed, hiding behind her mother.

Harry nervously stood up. The mother, with her daughter, slowly backed out of the room. "Who are you?" she asked in a frightened voice. "What are you doing in my daughter's room?"

"I can explain. You see…" Harry awkwardly began. He saw the mother quickly glanced at his black cloak.

"You're a Death Eater," she said accusingly, more frightened.

"Me?" Harry was surprised. "No, no, you're mistaken. I'm not a Death Eater. If you'll let me explain…"

"Stay away from my daughter!" the mother screamed at him in a terrified voice. "Stay away!" The mother continued slowly backing out of the room, until her back hit the wall outside.

"Mum…" the girl softly cried in protest. It was her daughter's back, which hit the wall outside. Her mother ignored her.

Harry was beginning to lose his patience. He was tired. He was hungry. And, he needed to take a shower. "Look, lady… I'm telling you. I'm not a Death Eater! If I am, which I'm not, will I still be arguing with you, whether I'm a Death Eater or not?" His argument must have penetrated the frightened mother's senses. She didn't run. She uneasily stood just outside the door, dubiously looking at him. Harry considered it a good sign. "I'm not here to hurt you, or your daughter. I promise I'll leave. Just let me take a quick shower, and a change of clothes."

"No!" Even though the mother still looked a little nervous, she recovered some of her composure. "Leave, or…or I'll call the police."

"Call the police? I haven't done anything wrong." Harry tried to keep his anger from showing. "I don't know who you, people, are. And, I don't care. But, this is _my_ house! And, this is _my_ room! _You_ are trespassing. I should be the one calling the police."

"Your house? Your room?" The mother marched angrily back into the room, dragging her daughter along. She stopped just a meter away from Harry. Any sign of her nervousness, or fear was all gone. Her blue eyes were blazing, as she looked up to meet Harry's angry glare. "I'll have you know. My husband and I have lived in this house for many years. If anyone's trespassing, it's _you_. Now leave…or I'm calling the police, right now."

"Oh yeah? Well, let me tell you… I practically grew up it in this house. I've never seen you or your daughter around here, or in the village. My Uncle Max left me this house, after he died." Harry noticed the woman turned slightly pale.

"Max? He's dead?" The woman looked at him in disbelief and fear.

The little girl, who was quietly watching in fright so far, saw how the strange man made her mother very upset. She found her courage, stepped up to him, and kicked his left shin. She angrily glared at him too, for good measure.

"Marie Rose…" The mother pulled her belligerent daughter back to her side. "You're lying. He can't be dead. He just left yesterday." Now, her expression matched that of her daughter.

"What? That can't be right." Harry looked incredulously at the woman. "Wait a minute… Are we talking about the same person? My uncle's name was Max Fedwick."

The mother gasped in surprise. "He's my husband. I'm Rosemarie Fedwick."

"Your husband?" Harry was very confused. His uncle didn't tell him he remarried. And, he knew his uncle would tell him an important thing like that. He suddenly got the feeling, something wasn't right. "Now, I know you're lying. Where's your proof?" The woman authoritatively pointed at a picture frame, sitting on top of the bedside table. Harry immediately went over, and picked it up. Sure enough, it showed the woman, his Uncle Max, and the little girl. The woman and the little girl looked a lot younger, but it was them. And then, a memory of the same picture flashed through his mind. "But… But you're dead…both of you…" He confusedly looked at both mother and daughter. "Uncle Max said you both died a long time ago. And Uncle Max… Uncle Max died a few weeks ago. I know, because I was there when he died." Feeling suddenly dizzy, he slowly sat down on the side of the bed. There was a lost look on his face. "I don't understand. How can you all be alive?"

"I don't know." Mrs. Fedwick carefully studied the stranger's face. She, then, noticed the caked blood on his forehead. "But, as you can see, my daughter and I are very much alive." Thinking Harry was suffering from a head trauma, she took pity on him. "Now, be a good dear and stay right here, okay? I'll call a doctor. I think you have an open wound on your forehead. Do you remember how you got it?"

Harry chuckled humorlessly. "I don't need a doctor. I need a psychiatrist. I must be going mad." He momentarily studied the worried face of the woman. He wondered, if he was hallucinating.

"_Alohomora"_

At first, Harry thought he was hearing things. But, when he heard the front door creaked open, he became suspicious. "Are you expecting a visitor?"

"No," answered Mrs. Fedwick, puzzled. "I don't know anyone, who will visit us at this time of night."

Harry was quickly on his feet, alert. "Take your daughter, and go to your bedroom." When both mother and daughter didn't move, he hastily shepherded the two out of the door, and into the master bedroom. He quickly closed the door, and locked it. "Stay here. Block the door after I leave. And, no matter what you hear, don't leave this room, understood?"

"What's going on?" Mrs. Fedwick asked nervously.

"I'm not really sure, but I think you have Death Eaters, coming late for dinner." Harry saw Mrs. Fedwick protectively hugged her daughter. He was about to leave, when he remembered something. He swiftly walked toward the closet, and opened the louver doors. He removed the boxes on the upper shelf. "Where are the guns?" he tensely asked Mrs. Fedwick.

"We don't keep guns in the house." Harry silently swore. His uncle must have started storing weapons inside the house, after his wife and daughter died. "Wait… I do have one." Harry impatiently watched the mother, as she opened an old shoe box on the floor. With great care, she picked up something inside. She, then, hastily brought it to him. "This belonged to my mother. I hope this helps." It was a wand.

Harry nodded in approval. He felt relieved. At least, he got something to fight off the intruders. "Remember, stay here. And, don't forget to block the door." For a moment, he thoughtfully regarded both mother and child. There was no guarantee the Death Eaters wouldn't get past him. If that happened, what would he do? Then, he remembered something again. "On second thought, I got a better idea." He extended his hand to the little girl. "Give me your hand." Marie Rose merely hugged her mother tighter.

"What are you going to do?" Mrs. Fedwick asked anxiously.

"I'll apparate us out of here," Harry answered with a note of urgency his voice. "I can only take one person at a time." He extended his hand to the little girl again. "Give me your hand." The girl looked at her mother for approval.

"It's alright, honey. Go with him," Mrs. Fedwick assured her scared daughter in a soothing voice. The girl hesitantly held Harry's hand.

"I'll come back for you." In a blink of an eye, Harry and the girl disappeared.

Mrs. Fedwick stood fearfully in the middle of her bedroom. She could now hear faint voices, and footsteps coming up the stairs. To buy some time, she tried to push the big, heavy drawer to the door. But, she wasn't strong enough to even move it. She used the bed and small tables instead, to block the door. Then, she stood back, and waited tensely. She watched in fear, as the doorknob slowly turned.

"Oi! This one is locked."

"Unlock it then."

"_Alohomora"_

The lock clicked open. Again, the doorknob slowly turned. As the door slowly opened, it hit the table.

"Something is blocking the door from the inside."

"Push harder."

"I'm not going to waste my time pushing the bloody door. I'll just blow it up."

Mrs. Fedwick retreated fearfully to the farthest part of her bedroom, wishing for the stranger to come back. Then, suddenly, the man was right beside her. Before they disappeared, she saw her bedroom door blew up into tiny pieces.

( ( o ) )

Mrs. Fedwick woke up early, and set out to do her daily chores. As she cooked breakfast, she couldn't help thinking about last night's near encounter with Death Eaters. Thanks to the stranger, whose name was Harry Evans, they were saved. He side-along apparated her and her daughter in their family's cottage in Scotland. She and Harry talked a bit, after Marie Rose went to bed. She knew it would take time. But, she hoped her daughter would forget her terrifying experience.

Her talk with Harry revealed Max took care of him. Her husband acted as Harry's guardian, after he found out the young man's relative was abusing him. She felt proud of her husband. He was a good and kind man, despite his profession. However, she was concern with Harry's mental health. It seemed he wasn't right in the head. He kept insisting they were dead. And, she kept insisting they were not. In the end, Harry let the matter rest. She got the feeling there was more to tell. But, she respected the man's privacy, and didn't question him further.

"Good morning, Mrs. Fedwick." She turned around, and saw Harry standing by the doorway.

She gave him a warm smile. Now that he was clean and properly clothed, she quickly noticed his youthful appearance. Then, she saw the exposed lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. She silently gasped. Her eyes grew wide in surprise. He wasn't Harry Evans like he said. He was Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. With supreme effort, she tried to curve her rising feeling of anger. Even though he lied to her, he saved their lives after all. She decided to have a quiet talk with him again. She would ask him what was really going on. Not wanting to make the boy feel uncomfortable, she tried to act as if she didn't notice a thing.

"Good morning, Harry. Have a seat. Breakfast is almost ready." Mrs. Fedwick returned to her cooking without a fuss.

"That smells good. I hope you cook a lot, because I'm starving." Harry stood beside her, and appreciatively inspected her cooking. "Hmmm…delicious."

Mrs. Fedwick smiled, slightly pleased. "Here, make yourself useful, and put these on the table." She handed him the plates of food. He did more than that, though. He also put knives, forks, cups, and plates on the table. For a moment, she wondered how he knew, where everything was kept. "Could you watch this for me? I have to wake up Marie Rose, or she'll sleep the whole day."

"No problem." Harry took the spatula, and expertly stirred the egg on the frying pan.

When Mrs. Fedwick came back with her daughter, everything was already set on the table, including the hot tea. Mrs. Fedwick sat on the end of the table with her back towards the window. Her daughter sat on her left. Harry sat on the other end of the table. They ate in good spirit. Even the little girl got a happy smile on her face. It seemed she already forgot last night's terrifying incident. But, she hadn't forgiven Harry, though, for scaring her. Out of the blue, Marie Rose asked Harry a question.

"Are you Harry Potter?" Mrs. Fedwick heard her little girl asked innocently, although her eyes glinted with excitement.

"Marie Rose!" Mrs. Fedwick was embarrassed for her daughter. "Don't mind her, Harry. She's sometimes too nosey for her own good."

"It's alright." Harry smiled graciously at the shocked mother. "I'm Harry Potter. Well, that's the name I was given the day I was born. I never knew my parents. No one told me about the House of Potter, either." For a briefest moment, there was sad look on his face. "I grew up with the name Harry Evans. And, as far as I can remember, I have always been called Harry Evans. So…" Harry nonchalantly shrugged. "I use the name Harry Evans."

Mrs. Fedwick was secretly ashamed. She had been thinking all sorts of things why Harry lied to her. There was a simple explanation all along. Now, she felt sorry for Harry. It seemed he grew up, not knowing anything about his family.

"Can I have your autograph?" her daughter, then, asked shamelessly.

"Marie Rose!" Mrs. Fedwick was again shocked at her daughter's audacity.

"Sure," Harry casually agreed, chuckling with amusement. "Can't imagine why you want my autograph, though."

"Are you joking?" exclaimed Marie Rose in disbelief. "You're Harry Potter!"

"So?" Harry lightly asked, puzzled.

"You're famous!" Marie Rose blurted excitedly.

Harry chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Famous? You must have me mistaken for someone else."

At Harry's words, it was Mrs. Fedwick's turn to look puzzled. She couldn't tell whether Harry was serious, or was just joking. She very much doubted nobody told him, what he was famous for. Dumbledore would surely let him know.

Tap…tap…tap

Mrs. Fedwick turned around, and saw an owl outside the window. She heard her daughter squeal in excitement. Marie Rose turned eleven last week. And ever since, she was hoping to receive a letter from Hogwarts. Mrs. Fedwick worriedly watched her daughter.

"Mum, it's here! My Hogwarts letter is here!" Marie Rose quickly stood up, almost knocking her chair down.

Harry momentarily stopped eating. He curiously watched the girl happily ran to the window. He, then, looked at the object of the girl's excitement. His eyes opened wide in horror. He unconsciously dropped his fork and knife. It was the owl from hell. He quickly stood up, knocking his chair down.

"Don't open that window!" Harry shouted urgently. But, it was too late. Marie Rose already opened it.

"Hoottt…"

The snowy owl headed straight for Harry. It hovered near his head and pecked him, repeatedly. Harry protectively crossed his arms over his head, and aimlessly ran around the kitchen. "Get away! Get away from me, you stupid owl!" At hearing the insult, the owl redoubled its effort. In order to escape the mad owl's onslaught, Harry desperately grabbed the fruit basket on the table. He quickly put it on like a helmet, dumping all the fruits on himself at the same time. The snowy owl, satisfied with its revenge, pecked Harry's right hand one last time. Then, the owl flew near Harry's plate, grabbed his last sausage, and flew out the window again.

"She likes you." Mrs. Fedwick amusedly watched the snowy owl perched on a nearby tree outside.

"I very much doubt that." Still protectively holding the fruit basket over his head, Harry warily approached the window. He saw the owl, swallowing the food she took. "How can you tell it's a she?"

"When you've been around owls for too long, you'll notice the difference. She's beautiful, isn't she?" Mrs. Fedwick and Harry continued to watch the owl. They didn't see the look of disappointment settled over Marie Rose's face.

"She's beautiful alright," admitted Harry grudgingly. "But, she's a menace. I don't know why she's picking on me. I haven't seen her before in my life."

"Like I said, she likes you. Maybe, that's why." Mrs. Fedwick gave Harry a reassuring smile, before looking at her daughter. What she saw on Marie Rose's face nearly broke her heart. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry." Mrs. Fedwick immediately hugged her daughter, consoling her.

"I'll be in my room, mum." Marie Rose ran tearfully out of the kitchen. Mrs. Fedwick didn't stop her. She knew what her daughter was feeling right now. She would talk to her later to help ease the pain.

Harry also watched the little girl leave. He felt sorry for her. He knew exactly how she felt. He could still remember his deep disappointment. "I'm sorry about your daughter. I just hope she's going to be alright. When I didn't receive my Hogwarts letter, I felt terrible." For a moment, his memory took him to that time and place in his Aunt Petunia's kitchen. "A squib is not special."

"How dare you say that, Harry Potter?!" When he turned his attention to Mrs. Fedwick, there was a very displeased look on her face.

"What?" Harry was baffled. "What did I say?"

Mrs. Fedwick merely walked past him, and crossly picked up the plates on the table. She threw the unfinished food in the bin, and piled the plates in the sink. She turned on the tap, and let water soaked the plates for a moment.

Harry knew he somehow offended Mrs. Fedwick. "Could you please tell me what I said wrong?"

She stopped what she was doing, and crossly faced Harry. "My daughter may be a squib, but she's special. I was born a squib. All my life witches and wizards call me names. I learned to ignore them. You may have saved us from those Death Eaters, but I won't have you belittling my daughter."

"I'm not…" Mrs. Fedwick turned her back on him again, before he could explain.

"I know we owe you a life debt, but I'll appreciate it if you leave." Mrs. Fedwick tensely began scrubbing the plates with soap, and filing them to one side.

Harry felt an ache in his heart. "I wasn't mocking your daughter. I was talking to myself. I'm sorry if you heard what I said." From the way Mrs. Fedwick ignored him, he assumed she didn't believe him. "Thank you for my clothes. And, breakfast was delicious." Still, the squib mother ignored him. "I wouldn't go back to Wicker Farm, if I were you. Death Eaters already know you live there. I suggest you tell Uncle Max to find a new house." Slowly, he pulled out Mrs. Fedwick's wand from his back pocket. He sadly looked at it for a moment, before setting it down on the table.

"You can take that wand with you." Harry suddenly looked up, and saw Mrs. Fedwick enigmatically watching him. "All it brought me were heartaches and disappointments." He nodded sadly, remembering what his Uncle Max told him about his wife.

( ( o ) )

The sun was already high, when Harry walked out the door. For a moment, he stood still on the stoop. He breathed deeply to loosen the tight feeling in his chest. Then, he indifferently looked around him. He could see it was a beautiful day. The sky was clear. Leaves lazily swayed at the soft breeze. Fresh, clean air filled his lungs.

"Hoottt…"

Harry curiously searched the source of the call. He found the snowy owl, perched on a low branch of a tree, not too far from him. He smiled with amusement. "Why do I get the feeling you're following me?"

"Hoottt…"

"Strange as it may sound, I think I'm going to miss you." He sadly smiled at the snowy owl. "I'm going now. Don't even think of following me, okay?" Firmly holding Mrs. Fedwick's wand, he disapparated. The snowy owl tilted her head to one side for a moment. Then, she gracefully launched herself into the air, and flew toward the general direction of London.

Meanwhile, inside the house, Mrs. Fedwick already finished washing all the dishes and utensils. She was busy toweling them dry, when she heard loud pattering of feet, going down the stairs.

"Mum! Mum!" Marie Rose excitedly ran up to her mother. She was waving a parchment. "Mum, look! It's my letter! I'm going to Hogwarts!" The girl eagerly gave the parchment to her mother.

With shaking hands, Mrs. Fedwick slowly opened the parchment. Sure enough, it was her daughter's acceptance letter from Hogwarts. She burst into tears. She quickly reached for her daughter, and happily hugged her. Her fear that her daughter was going to be a squib was unfounded.

After a moment, Marie Rose eagerly wiggled out of her mother's tight embrace. "Are we going to Diagon Alley now? I want to buy my books, and potions, and parchments. May I have a white owl for a pet, like Harry's?"

"Harry…" Mrs. Fedwick suddenly remembered her unkind words to the young man. She owed Harry an apology. "Stay here for a minute, okay?" She quickly ran to the front door, and anxiously searched the front yard. But, Harry was already gone. Then, she heard a fluttering of wings. She curiously looked up, and saw the snowy owl flying away.


	5. The Doppelganger pt 2

_Disclaimer: Characters of the Harry Potter saga are owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is written as a fan fiction. No right infringement is intended. Any similarity to other Harry Potter fan fictions is purely coincidental._

Summary: AU. Albus Dumbledore keeps a secret that may be the very downfall of the wizarding world. Will Voldemort learn of this secret which Dumbledore values more than the prophecy? Or, will someone find out what it is?

--

Chapter 5: The Doppelganger pt. 2

The Penthouse Suite of London City Hotel exuded luxury and class. From the crystal chandelier to the brass doorknob, the suite was designed to provide excellent service, and relaxing ambiance. It was clearly meant for hotel guests with money.

Ringgg…

A left hand erratically moved over the mahogany bedside table. It toppled a few small knick-knacks, before it found the alarm clock. The hand pulled the clock under a white blanket. After a few seconds, a protesting groan sounded from under the white sheet. Harry sleepily sat up, the edge of his blanket falling to his waist. He drowsily looked around his dimly lit bedroom. He yawned aloud, while lethargically stretching his arms high and wide. After his brief calisthenics, he sat still. His shoulders were slightly hunched forward. A few more seconds later, his eyelids slowly drooped. Before his eyes completely closed, his head already landed on a mountain of soft pillows. A few restful seconds slowly ticked by, before another kind of alarm sounded.

"Hoottt…"

"Zzzzzz…"

"Hoottt…"

"Zzzzzz…"

The snowy owl lost her patience. She flew from her comfortable perched, and pecked Harry on the head. "I'm up! I'm up!" Harry immediately sat up. Satisfied, the owl flew back to her comfortable perch. Even though he was still sleepy, he gave the owl an annoyed look. "Stupid owl," he grumbled softly. Harry wasn't sure, but he felt like the owl was smugly looking at him. "I must be mad, picking up stray bird." He lazily got off his comfortable bed, still annoyed.

Hands akimbo, he faced the owl just wearing his boxers. "You're lucky I took pity on you. You could still be out there eating diseased rats and voles." The owl merely turned her head towards the veranda, as if whatever he was saying was of no consequence to her. For a moment, Harry disbelievingly gaped at the owl. He knew what she wanted. She liked to go out, before dawn. "What am I? Your butler?" Nevertheless, he grudgingly opened the wide, sliding glass door. The owl gracefully launched herself into the air. She cuffed Harry in the head on her way out. "Ungrateful owl!"

For a moment, Harry fondly watched the owl fly away. He wasn't really cross. He only acted that way to get a little respect. But, somehow, the owl seemed to see right through his act. He saw the owl banked to her right to avoid a tall building. After a few more seconds, she completely disappeared from his sight. With a soft sigh, he slowly closed the glass door. Then, he checked his remaining time. The wall clock showed it was thirty-five, past four in the morning. He got plenty of time, before he was discovered.

He grabbed his clothes, and went to take a shower. Fifteen minutes later, he walked out of the bathroom, fresh and ready to face the world. From the bedside table, he picked up his eyeglasses. He, then, stood in front of a mirror, and put on his _disguise_. His eyeglasses didn't have prescription lenses, just regular ones. He _borrowed_ it from someone, when he stayed in a hotel, west of London. He thought if it worked for Clark Kent a.k.a. Superman, it should work for him.

Harry's eyes strayed to the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. He closely studied it. After almost two weeks of medication, it should have completely healed. But, it didn't. It was still raw. It also throbbed painfully once in a while, giving him severe headaches. He curiously touched it, lightly tracing its shape with his right forefinger. He didn't know how he got it. But, he suspected one of the Death Eaters carved it there, probably as a joke…a bad joke at that too. For a moment, he wondered what Neville would say about his scar. He hated to admit it, but the scar looked cool on him than on Neville.

With a nonchalant shrugged, he, next, surveyed his _borrowed_ bedroom. He swished and flicked his wand, erasing any evidence of their presence…his and the owl. Once he was done, he moved on to other rooms. By the time he reached the main lounge, the suite was spotless. Harry was pleased with himself as he looked around him. He knew mastering household cleaning spells would come in handy. For a moment, he mentally checked, if he put everything back in order. When, suddenly, he heard the front door opened. Harry casually watched a tall, thin man, in a hotel uniform, laboriously walked in.

( ( o ) )

The bellman quickly put down the large luggage he was carrying, silently panting. He momentarily wiped the beads of sweat on his forehead, before facing his guest with a friendly smile. "Here you are, sir, the penthouse suite. I'll take your luggage to the bedroom, shall I?" With a nod from the hotel guest, the bellman laboriously picked up the large luggage again. When he turned towards the lounge, he stopped short. He saw someone watching him. Then, the figure suddenly disappeared. The bellman unconsciously dropped the luggage in surprise. "Did you see that?"

"See what?" The hotel guest stood beside him, curiously looking around.

"A man was standing right there a second ago…" The stunned bellman unconsciously pointed to the middle part of the lounge. "Then, poof! He disappeared."

"You mean a ghost?" the guest quizzically asked the bellman.

"No, I mean…" When the bellman turned to his guest, he noticed the funny look the man was giving him. "I must be seeing things. My apologies, sir…" The bellman stiffly picked up the large luggage again. "I'll take this to your bedroom now."

When the bellman came back, the guest handed him two quid. "Don't forget to get yourself a cup of tea. It'll help clear your mind," the guest reminded him importantly.

The bellman smiled awkwardly. "I will. Goodnight, sir."

After the bellman left, the guest went straight to the mini-bar. When he opened the small refrigerator, he immediately noticed it wasn't fully stocked. Several chocolate bars and pocket-size liquors were missing. One chocolate was even left half-eaten. The guest frowned with displeasure. He irately picked up a nearby telephone, and asked for the hotel manager. He suspected the bellman drank and ate some of the liquors and chocolates. That must be the reason he was seeing things…the pilfering bastard.

( ( o ) )

Harry appeared in an alley a few blocks away from London City Hotel. A few seconds later, he reached street proper. He momentarily looked around him to orient himself. It was still too early. He saw a drunk, sleeping on the curb and no else. Traffic noise was still at a minimum. So far, just a few lorries and taxi cabs passed by him. He turned right, and unhurriedly walked down the quiet street.

Since he left his Uncle Max's cabin, he had been wandering around London for almost two weeks. For some reason, he felt hesitant to go back to the wizarding world. At first, he visited his school friends. But, they didn't seem to recognize him. They didn't even remember seeing him in school. He didn't bother going around his village, because most people he knew there were just acquaintances. So, with no money and no place to stay, he resorted to _borrowing_ rooms during the night. He lightly made a promise to pay someday, though.

Lost in thought, Harry never paid attention to the growing number of people walking along side him. Eventually, he accidentally bumped on someone. "Sorry…"

A man in expensive business suit looked at him irately. "Next time…watch where you're going."

For a moment, Harry frowned crossly. After a few tense seconds, the man stepped to one side, and hurriedly walked around him. Harry felt a little guilty, scaring the man away. It was his fault, after all. Suddenly, a pedestrian accidentally bumped into him. "Damn it," he muttered in annoyance. The unknown pedestrian didn't even looked at him, but kept on going. To avoid anymore mishap, he decided to stand close to a show window of a fastfood shop behind him. His stomach rumbled softly at the smell of delicious food, and the rich aroma of tea.

Harry knew he was going nowhere. At one time, he had goals. He would learn magic. He would hunt down Marcus Flint, and bring him to justice. And now, there was no sense in bringing Flint to justice, if his Uncle Max and his family were still alive. He didn't have a single clue how it happened. And, nobody seemed to remember he existed. Since waking up from the dead, his whole world somehow turned upside down.

"There must be an explanation to what's happening to me," Harry mumbled to himself restlessly.

With no idea where to spend his day, Harry went to the one place, he thought he would never bother to see again... Little Whinging. He found himself in a very familiar playground. He quickly looked around him, to see if anyone noticed. Fortunately for him, the few children present were busy playing. No one was actually looking in his direction. When the children did look at him, they didn't pay much attention.

"Damn, that was close. Got to remember not to do that again," Harry irately muttered to himself. The last thing he needed was to draw unwanted attention to his self.

Harry instinctively went to the swing set. It was his place of sanctuary, when he was a young boy. He sat down on the swing's seat, and unseeingly studied his borrowed trainers. His thoughts automatically went over the events, since he dug himself out of his grave. It seemed his puzzling problems were all he could think about for the past several days. He ignored the bright, sunny day, the children's laughter, and a group of teenagers heading his way.

"I feel like I'm in a bloody twilight zone." He really felt the need to talk to someone, to explain whatever happened to him. But, he didn't know who to approach. Asking his parents was out of the question. He wasn't friendly with them or to anyone for that matter, except for Hermione. For a moment, he wondered if he should see her. Her parents were regular people. Perhaps, he could find her address in the telephone book. There was Dumbledore, of course. He could ask him. After all, the old geezer was the headmaster of Hogwarts. Harry amusedly smiled at the thought. Hermione would be horrified to hear his insulting thought of the _venerable_ headmaster. To top it all off, he was wanted by the Ministry. "At least, it isn't going to get any worse than that," he derisively mumbled to himself.

"You're seating on my swing," A low, belligerent voice told him.

"I spoke too soon," he sardonically muttered to himself.

Harry slowly looked up. For a moment, he calmly stared at the sneering face of his fat cousin, Dudley. Then, his eyes traveled to the faces of his cousin's gang, and then, back to Dudley again. He had been wondering a few months ago, what he would feel if he saw Dudley, or his aunt and uncle again. Now, he knew. And, it was weird. He didn't care at all. It was as if his cousin was a complete stranger. There was a time, Dudley's mere presence, would evoke fear in his heart…but, not anymore.

He noticed they stood around him in semi-circle, with Dudley directly in front of him. They probably intended to block his escape routes. After all the years, nothing seemed to change. They still looked like bullies. Dudley still looked fat and mean. And, his gang looked just as mean, but not as fat. It was probably why they chose Dudley as their leader. His cousin was big, fat, and mean. Harry resignedly sighed, before standing. He knew his cousin wouldn't go away once he spotted, what he thought as an easy target. From their point of view, he didn't look much of a threat. He was rail thin and pale.

"Hello Dudley, Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, Gordon…" He indifferently looked at each teenager as he said their names. His voice sounded like he was bored out of his mind. "You all looked…well."

For a moment, Dudley and his gang quizzically looked at him. "You know us?" his cousin asked in surprise. But, there was a look of doubt on his face.

Harry smiled casually. "Of course, I do."

"He's lying, Big D. We haven't seen him before." Piers angrily glared at him.

"Who are you?" Dudley suspiciously asked, while carelessly studying him.

Harry acted surprise. "What? You already forgot about me?" He overdramatically raised his eyes and hands heavenward. "I don't believe this. It's only been…what? Four years? And, you don't remember me anymore?"

"We don't care how long it's been, you git. Answer Big D. Who the bloody hell are you?" Piers snapped impatiently.

Harry just smiled at Piers with contempt. "You already forgot the target of your stupid game, Harry hunting?"

"Harry hunting? What the bloody hell are you on about?" Dudley asked irately. "I don't know anyone named Harry."

Harry sighed exasperatedly. "I shouldn't be surprised you don't remember me. You and your cuddle buddies are as thick as they come." His cousin angrily glared at him. "It's me, Harry…" Thinking it would jog Dudley's memory, he added his father's family name, which his Aunt Petunia hated so much. "Harry Potter."

Dudley stupidly looked at him. "So?"

Harry exaggeratedly rolled his eyes in frustration. "Are you brain dead, Dudley? Don't you remember me? I'm your cousin." Dudley continued to look stupidly at him. "We grew up together. I used to sleep in your cupboard." Still, his cousin didn't show any sign of recognition. "By the way, how are Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia? Are they still angry with me for getting them in trouble with the police?"

"I think you're the one brain dead. You're talking rubbish," Dudley said in annoyance, threateningly stepping a little closer. "I don't _have_ any cousin."

Harry thoughtfully observed his cousin. Like Luna, Dudley really didn't recognize him. His cousin wasn't a good actor. The only people he could fool were his parents. "Fine… You don't know me. Happy now? You can have your swing back." For some unknown reason, he felt a little sad at the denial. He was about to walk away, when Dudley blocked his path.

"Not so fast… What's your name again?" There was a look of fake concentration on Dudley's face as he pretended to recall Harry's name.

"Harry Potter," Piers supplied helpfully.

"I know that, idiot. I was just baiting him," Dudley curtly retorted. He irritably glared at Piers. One thing he hated the most was to be thought a fool by anybody.

"Sorry Big D." Piers looked properly chastised.

Dudley, then, turned his full attention on Harry. His eyes twinkled with evil mischief. "You can't go yet. You see, this playground is mine. You can't just use this swing and go. You have to pay us first."

"That's right," Piers confirmed with an evil grin.

"I see." Harry impassively looked at the faces of his former tormentors. They all have predatory smiles on their faces. He got a feeling his present situation was about to become ugly. "I don't have any money," he told them unconcernedly. "But, I do have this." He slowly pulled out Mrs. Fedwick's wand from his trouser's back pocket. He showed it to his cousin. He knew Dudley was a wizard. His cousin would understand. He expectantly waited for Dudley's reaction.

"A stick?" Dudley cried in disgust. His cousin angrily slapped the wand from his hand. It fell near his right foot. "We don't want your stick, you idiot! We want your money!"

Harry felt disappointed. Dudley genuinely didn't recognize a wand. He was hoping he would see a spark of recognition in his cousin's eyes. Hoping his past didn't change much. No matter how unpleasant most of it had been. But, it seemed luck was not on his side. At that moment, he definitely felt like he was in a twilight zone. Everything looked the same…nearly the same, and yet, different. He casually picked up his wand.

"Sorry, Dudley… This is all I have," he replied sadly.

( ( o ) )

In a show of power, Dudley cracked his knuckles. "The next time you use my swing, remember to bring your money." His gang immediately closed in on his _cousin_, Harry. Malcolm and Gordon firmly held the git's arms and shoulders. He noticed the git didn't even resist.

"Look, can't you let me go this one time? I promise not to use your swing again." Dudley merely smirked. He loved it, when his victim begged for mercy. For a moment, he looked behind him. He saw small children nervously watching him. He grinned evilly.

"Hold him steady, mates. I want my audience to see this." Dudley pulled back his fat fist, aiming for Harry's nose.

"You don't have to do this, Dudley. You'll only regret it." Dudley merely smirked at the pitiful threat. He looked directly into his _cousin_'s eyes. He was surprised they didn't show the fear, he was accustomed to seeing. Instead, they were cold, unemotional. He hesitated. For a brief moment, he uneasily considered, if the git would actually fight back.

"Come on, Big D! Let him have it!" Piers cried excitedly. It was obvious he liked to have a go next.

"Make him cry for his mum, Dud!" Malcolm said with a nasty grin on his face.

"Look at him. I think he's going to cry," Dennis stated contemptuously.

Encouraged by his friends' enthusiasm, Dudley delivered a quick, hard blow to Harry's face. He excitedly anticipated his hard fist, crushing the git's nose. But, to his surprise, he didn't hit his target. He missed. "What?!" The bugger moved his head to the left. "Hold him steady, you idiots!"

Before Dudley could take another swing, Gordon and Malcolm slammed hard into him. The force of their impact drove Dudley a couple of meters away. He painfully landed on his arse, and was buried under the weight of his two mates. "Get off me! Get off!" he yelled in anger

Dudley pushed his friends none too gently. But, momentarily dazed, they were slow to obey. When Dudley finally got up, he saw Piers and Dennis already on the ground, moaning in pain. He looked at Gordon and Malcolm. They were slowly and achingly getting up. Cold fury settled over him. His anger fueled his concentration. He tightly clenched his fists, and angrily glared at Harry. "I'll teach you not to mess with us."

Dudley raised his fists, tucked his elbows close to his sides, and slightly bent his knees. With deliberate spring on his steps, he danced around Harry, looking for an opening. He immediately noticed the git didn't follow his movement. The bugger just stood on the same spot, his head slightly bowed. It was an opening, Dudley couldn't resist. He viciously swung his fist, aiming for the right ear. His target suddenly whirled around, dipping low. Dudley didn't see a leg swept him off his feet. "What the fuck!" He landed on his back with a soft thud. His head thumped on the soft sand.

Gritting his teeth from anger more than pain, Dudley quickly got up, and attacked like a mad bull. He luckily grabbed a hold of Harry, and bodily lifted him. Dudley felt a hard blow landed between his shoulder blades. The pain made him lose his balance. He fell to the ground with his prey trapped beneath him. Dudley knew he knocked the air out of the bugger by the _Oomph_ sound he made. "You fucker! I'm going to break you to pieces!" The bugger was struggling to get out from under him. Making sure his prey wouldn't escape, he used his heavy weight to full advantage. At the same time, he peppered the Harry's left ribs with severe blows. "How do you like it now, you bastard?!"

Choking Harry with his meaty left forearm, Dudley pulled back his fist to deliver another blow, this time, to the jaw. Big mistake… By lifting himself off a little, he gave his foe an opening. Heavy blows swiftly hit his left ribs, repeatedly. He endured the hits for a moment, returning blows for blows. He was forced to let go, after his left jaw was hit twice. He could feel pain on several parts of his body now. It was something new to him. Generally, whenever he stepped inside a boxing ring, he was the one inflicting the pain. He was a little sluggish, when he stood up.

Wheezing now, Dudley felt his left ribs and jaw, aching like hell. He also got a metallic taste in his mouth. With a grim look on his face, he spit out the fluid. It was blood. With some effort, he managed to control his anger. For a moment, he closely observed his opponent. He noticed the other bloke was indifferently studying him. He hoped the fucker wouldn't notice he was favoring his left side now. He was secretly surprised the bugger didn't show any sign of pain. He knew he hit him hard, several times. The bugger also looked like he wasn't tired. He wasn't even sweating, or breathing hard like him.

Dudley's attention shifted to his mates. They were indecisively standing behind the git. His anger swelled. "What are you doing, standing there for?! Get him!" His mates hesitated for a moment, before attacking. Dudley saw the bugger gave Piers a roundhouse kick. His best mate went down like a sack of potatoes. Malcolm threw a strong kick, while the bugger was preoccupied with Dennis and Gordon. The bugger unexpectedly caught Malcolm's right leg, whirled him around, and forcefully slammed him to Gordon and Dennis. They lay on the ground, groaning in pain. The fight was over in seconds.

"It looks like it's only you and me now." Dudley fumed at the amused look on the git's face. The git was taunting him. "You can still walk away." Dudley never felt insulted in his life. He was Smelting's boxing champion. It would be a cold day in hell, before he gave up a fight.

"I don't run from a fight, especially from a wanker like you." With a determined expression on his face, Dudley assumed his boxing champion stance again. He saw the git's face hardened. He grinned nastily. He felt good. His insult hit home.

"Don't say I didn't give you a choice." The bugger deliberately walked toward him.

Dudley timed his adversary's approach, before he delivered a hard jab. The git easily evaded it. He moved closer, giving another hard jab. The git easily avoided it again. He quickly followed with a combination. He kept attacking, until he was tired and frustrated. He felt like he was just shadow boxing. He kept hitting air. "Why don't you fight back,you coward! Not sure if you can hit me? Here, try landing one on this." He slightly jutted his chin out.

He deliberately gave an opening, hoping to bait the git. It worked. Unfortunately, the blow he was expecting was delivered so fast, he didn't get a chance to block or counter it. He reeled from the impact. His jaw felt like it was hit with a sledge hammer. He was still trying to clear his head, when he felt another blow. Sharp pain exploded inside his head. His vision blurred a little. Everything started spinning. He was teetering on his feet, when a bus slammed on his chest. At least, that was what it felt like. He screamed in fright as he felt himself flying backward. He landed hard on his back, before flipping over one time.

Dudley's groan of pain was muffled by the soft grass, his face was nestling on. Almost every bone in his body was crying out in pain. It even took an effort just to breathe. At that moment, he regretted ever listening to Piers to extort money from the unknown boy. He should have just followed his own idea to ask his mum for some money. If he did, he wouldn't be receiving this beating. His reputation would be intact. Then, he felt a hand roughly grabbed his hair, and pulled his head up, hard. He involuntarily cried out loud, when another bout of pain exploded inside his head. He blinked a few times, until the bugger's face came into focus. He saw his hard, cold eyes contemptuously glaring at him.

"No… You're not worth it." He heard him say, before the git released his hold, stood up, and leisurely walked away.

Dudley suddenly felt angry at himself, his weakness. His injured pride welled up. "Don't turn your back on me, you bastard! Come back here and fight!" he yelled with a slight slur in his voice.

Dudley saw the git stopped, and slowly turned around. Gritting his teeth, he used his arms to support himself. He would show him who wasn't worthy, Dudley dizzily thought to himself. He mustered his remaining strength, and tried to stand. His knees were shaking, when he finally managed it. He was raggedly breathing. Pain kept distracting him. Nevertheless, he sluggishly took a boxing stance. He waited a few seconds, till his dizziness stopped.

"Who's that jerk with you?" he asked derisively. "…Afraid to fight alone?" Dudley didn't realize he was seeing double. "Doesn't matter… I'll beat the crap out the both of you." He took an unsteady step forward, lost his balance, and fell hard on his face.

( ( o ) )

"Come on, Big D." Harry uncaringly watched Gordon and Dennis picked up Dudley off the ground. Blood dripped from his cousin's broken nose.

Dudley drunkenly walked, as his mates helped him. Malcolm and Piers were unsteadily walking ahead of them. Once in a while, Dennis or Gordon would worriedly look over their shoulders, to see if he was following. They didn't look tough to him anymore. Remembering all the beatings he endured from his cousin and his gang, he was surprised at himself for letting them go lightly. Then, his eyes sparkled with mischief, as he thought of an idea.

"Oh…what the hell..." Harry pointed his wand at Dudley, and muttered a spell.

"AHHHHHHH!" He heard Dudley screamed in fright. He saw Gordon and Dennis jumped in surprise, and confusion.

"DUD, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?" Malcolm cried in shock. Dudley slowly looked back at him in fear. His gang got confused expressions, as they looked back at him, too.

"Oh, shite!" Harry exclaimed in surprise and disbelief. He wanted to turn Dudley into a pig. But, the spell only half worked. The lower half of his cousin turned into a pig's hind part. The upper portion remained human. He couldn't believe he botched his transfiguration spell. He had spent countless hours practicing transfiguring inanimate objects. For a moment, he tried to figure out what he did wrong, when suddenly, he heard loud, sharp noises.

BANG!

BANG!

Out of nowhere, two blue-cloaked, Ministry wizards appeared between Harry and Dudley's group. By the markings on their cloaks, Harry knew without a doubt they were Aurors. His cousin's gang instinctively ran away in fear. With no one helping him, Dudley fell down, face first. His cousin tried to run away, too. But because of his unfamiliar pig legs, he couldn't. Harry smartly followed the other bullies' example. He quickly disapparated, before the Aurors noticed him, which in his mind, would be very bad.

( ( o ) )

Dudley fearfully looked over his right shoulder, as he tried to crawl away. Something freaky just happened to him. He suddenly got a porker's legs. He didn't know how it happened, but he was sure it was that weird boy's doing. Now, he really regretted ever listening to Piers. To top it off, his _friends_ left him behind. He promised himself he would have a serious _talk_ with them later. He, then, felt a wet feeling on his nose. He irately brushed it off. When he looked at back of his right hand, he noticed it was smeared with blood. He silently cursed his _friends_, the git named Harry, and the two weirdly dressed freaks behind him.

"Stupid muggles." Dudley heard one grunted scornfully. _Muggles_... He never heard that word before. Not that he knew a lot of words.

"What do we have here?" Dudley got the feeling the other one was talking about him. His voice sounded close. He redoubled his effort to crawl away, fear getting the best of him.

"Another stupid muggle, what else?" He heard the first one replied in annoyance.

"One day, Glover, your pleasant personality will get you in trouble." Dudley heard the bloke, Glover, grumbled in reply.

Suddenly, Dudley felt a hand grabbed his left shoulder, and forced him on his back. He saw the two weirdly dressed men, grimly studying him. "Please, don't kill me. I didn't do anything wrong. It was that freak boy, Harry." He fearfully crossed his forearms over his face, to protect himself.

"Harry?" The two Aurors were taken aback. The name was very popular in their world, after all. Because of his fear, Dudley didn't hear their surprise reactions. After a few seconds, he heard one of them spoke. "We're not going to kill you. We're here to help." The kind voice allayed some of Dudley's fear. He slowly lowered his arms. He saw the one on the left, sat on his haunches. The weird man rested his forearms on his thighs. "My name is Cabot." The weird man jerked his head towards the other bloke. "That's Glover. What's your name son?"

Dudley swallowed fearfully. "Dudley… Dudley Dursley."

"Dudley… Please to meet you." Dudley hesitantly shook the hand proffered to him. "Dudley, we're…ahhh…secret policemen. Could you tell us, who did this to you?"

At hearing the word _police_, Dudley suddenly felt vengeful. Even though he couldn't prove it, he blurted out the name of his prime suspect. "It was that git, Harry."

"Harry…" Dudley noticed the reserve expression on Cabot's face. "Harry who?"

"Harry Potter," Dudley angrily replied. He noticed Cabot's surprise. He immediately assumed the git was a wanted man. "Yeah, he said his name's Harry Potter." Dudley relished the idea of quickly getting his revenge. "I'll testify against him, if you like."

The bloke, Glover, stood behind him to help him up. But, Dudley just irritably shrugged his hands off. He tried to get up by himself. But, his transfigured feet kept throwing him off-balance. After several tries, he gave up, and just sat down. He didn't notice he provided a brief entertainment to the two Aurors.

With amused expression, the one named Cabot asked him a question, "Can you describe this _Harry Potter_ for me?" His voice sounded doubtful.

Dudley didn't notice anything, though. He just eagerly gave to the kind policeman his assailant's description. "He's got a rat's nest for a hair, and a stupid scar on his forehead."

"A scar, eh?" Dudley didn't pay much attention to Cabot's very interested expression. "This scar… Can you describe it for me?"

Dudley obligingly described it. "It got an odd shape…like a lightning bolt."

"I see." Cabot felt he got all the information he needed. He looked at his partner. "Glover, would you fix this mess for me."

Dudley quizzically turned his eyes on the other bloke. It looked to him Glover wasn't too happy at the request. Nevertheless, the weird fellow lazily pointed a stick on his legs, and mumbled something. The next thing he knew, he got his original legs back. "What? How?" Dudley looked in surprise at his legs, and then, at the two weird men, and then, back again at his legs. "How did you do that?" Fearfully, he slowly slid on his arse, backward. "You're not policemen, are you?"

"It's not important," Cabot answered casually. Then, he meaningfully nodded to his partner. He could clearly see the muggle boy wanted to run. But, for some reason, the boy was just slowly trying to distance himself from them.

"That git, Harry… He also said a funny thing…" Cabot quickly gestured to his partner to stop...

"_Obliviate!"_

…He was too late.

( ( o ) )

After their investigation, the two Aurors immediately reported the incident to Gawain Robards, Head of Auror Division. Muggle killings were becoming rampant, that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement put up detectors in most non-magical communities. It wasn't a perfect solution. But, at least, they could immediately respond upon detection of magical spells. That was their main reasoning, at least.

"Are you sure about this, Cabot?" Robards asked dubiously. "It wasn't a hoax?"

"He was positively identified by a muggle boy, sir," Cabot replied evenly.

Robards wearily leaned back on his high-backed, leather chair. There was a thoughtful look on his face. "Why Little Whinging?" He asked almost to himself. "Did you find out what he was doing there?" He looked expectantly at his two Aurors.

There was an imperceptible pause, before Cabot replied. "No, sir." He didn't think it was necessary to let his superior know, they obliviated the muggle boy, before he could tell them more.

For a moment, Robards looked worried. "I hope Rita Skeeter doesn't get a hold of this bit of news. Imagine what witches and wizards will say, especially the young ones. Harry Potter, toying with muggles."

"Sir, I didn't think that was what he was doing," Cabot said calmly. "From the other children's eyewitness accounts, Potter was just quietly sitting there. Then, a group of muggle boys approached him. They were known bullies. They started harassing him. When the leader decided to punch him, Potter put up a good fight." Althought Cabot's face was expressionless, his eyes sparkled with amusement. "The muggles looked like they've been through a meat grinder, when Potter was done with them. They were lucky Potter didn't just use magic to fight them off."

"That's another thing." Robards now looked displeased. "Potter's an underage wizard. Mafalda Hopkirk's office should have detected his improper use of magic." The two Aurors remained quiet. They didn't bother to offer any personal opinion, because the reason was pretty obvious. "Damn Scrimgeour and Dumbledore! They must have struck a deal concerning Potter." For a moment, the Head of Auror Division appeared to be in deep thought. "You may leave." The two Aurors immediately stood up. "Keep this incident to yourselves. I don't want people to think the Ministry is playing favoritism."


	6. The Doppelganger pt 3

_Disclaimer: Characters of the Harry Potter saga are owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is written as a fan fiction. No right infringement is intended. Any similarity to other Harry Potter fan fictions is purely coincidental._

Summary: AU. Albus Dumbledore keeps a secret that may be the very downfall of the wizarding world. Will Voldemort learn of this secret which Dumbledore values more than the prophecy? Or, will someone find out what it is?

--

Chapter 6: The Doppelganger pt. 3

Harry apparated in Charing Cross Road. Immediately, he noticed a few people, across the street, confusedly pointing at him. Two old ladies even gave him a wide berth, as they passed by him. They seemed to be afraid of him. Not knowing what to do, he just smiled and waved at them, uneasily. He, then, casually turned around, as if nothing happened out of the ordinary. He made a big blunder this time. And, he just told himself earlier, he would be careful.

He resignedly sighed. He just hoped none of them was a witch, or wizard. He didn't want his location reported to the magical authorities. But, since he couldn't do anything about the incident, he just pushed it at the back of his mind. For the time being, he concentrated on the dated door in front of him. He, then, looked up, and inwardly groaned with disappointment. He was right in front of The Leaky Cauldron. He wanted to appear in the street of Diagon Alley, not outside. But, the stupid sign was the first thing that popped in his mind, before he hastily disapparated.

Harry warily entered the pub. A few people inside just gave him cursory glances. There were three people at the bar, drinking. A few more were sitting around tables, quietly eating or talking. He was relieved no one paid much attention to him. He uncertainly walked up to the barman. "Excuse me, sir," he said softly.

"Be with you in a minute." The barman poured a couple of drinks, before giving them to his customers.

A waitress passed by him holding a tray of food. His nose automatically followed the delicious smell. His stomach growled in hunger. He liked to order some food. But, he got to wait, till he withdrew some money from Gringotts. Remus once told him his parents set aside money for him. It was supposed to be his living expenses, while he was with the Dursleys. He never knew about it. And, since he'd never seen a penny of that money, he told Remus he wouldn't use it. But, now, his strange situation forced him to swallow his pride.

"What'll you have?" Harry quickly turned around. He noticed the barman's quick glance at his forehead. "Let me guess…" The barman smiled crookedly. "You're applying for a job."

"Excuse me?" Harry quizzically looked at the barman.

"Your scar…" The barman pointed at his forehead. "I've never seen so many Harry Potter look-alikes in one day. Those two Weasley boys sure know how to stir up business," The barman said with a toothy grin. He, then, pointed at the back of his pub. "Just go through the Entrance, and look for a line of Harry Potters. You can't miss it."

"Uh… Thanks," Harry said uncertainly. He was about to walk away, when he remembered something. "I'm sorry to bother you again." He smiled awkwardly. "Could you open the entrance to Diagon Alley for me? I forgot the combination."

"No problem." The barman led him to the back, and opened the brick entrance. "You saw what I did…three up and two across?" Harry nodded briefly. "Don't forget now. So next time, you know what to do." Again, Harry nodded briefly. "Good luck, lad."

"Thanks." Harry momentarily grinned at the barman, before entering the brick arch.

( ( o ) )

Diagon Alley wasn't as crowded as when Harry first visited it. But, it was still as interesting as when he first saw it. Since he wasn't in a hurry to get to Gringotts, he took his time looking at show windows of different shops. Before he knew it, he was almost near Fred and George's joke shop. He curiously looked ahead. To his surprise, he saw the Weasley twins were outside their joke shop. They were standing behind a cart full of their joke products. For a moment, he wondered why the twins were selling their products in the street.

Harry anxiously walked up to them, wondering if they would know him. For a few moments, he looked them in the eye. When they didn't show any reaction to his appearance, a feeling of great sadness washed over him. He was really hoping they would recognize him. Then, he noticed Fred and George's open interest. He quickly schooled his face. Briefly, he curiously looked at the shop behind them. He was surprised to see a sign, _To Lease_, hanging on the show window.

He was wondering what happened to the twins' business, when they both suddenly said, "You're hired!"

He looked at them in surprise and disbelief. "I am?" For almost two weeks, he tried to find an employer, who wouldn't ask for parent's approval. Now, without even applying, he got one.

"Yes, you are… Congratulations!" they both said simultaneously.

Then, Fred beckoned him to go around the cart. "Come on. Join us back here."

George first introduced himself, then his twin. After they agreed on his pay, the twins gave him instructions. Harry was excited. It was his first job. He thought, perhaps, he wouldn't need his parents' money after all.

"Are these Flobberworm Gummies safe for children?" a female voice asked him uncertainly.

Harry nervously swept his errant hair off his brow, before facing his first customer. A middle-aged witch was curiously inspecting a wriggling, red gummy in her hand. When she finally looked at him, she gasped out loud. Her eyes grew round, and her mouth hanged open. Harry felt slightly confuse at the awestruck expression of the witch.

"Is there something wrong?" For a moment, he self-consciously brushed his nose. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Oh my word…" the witch gasped in disbelief. For a moment, she hurriedly read the sign above the cart, which she ignored earlier. With incredulous expression, she looked again at Harry. "You're Harry Potter!"

Harry felt more confuse, and a little curious. He seriously doubted they met before. So, there was no way she would know his name. And yet, she correctly identified him. He also didn't have any idea, why she reacted to him, as if he was someone famous. The first was Mrs. Fedwick's daughter, and now, this witch. He didn't think he was that remarkable. But, looking at the witch, he wasn't sure he could convince her otherwise.

"Uhm… Will you excuse me for a minute?" Harry uneasily approached Fred and George. They were grinning widely at his obvious discomfort. "Fred, George, I think one of you should take this one."

"No problem, mate."

"Just leave it to us, Harry."

The twins quickly low fived in excitement. It seemed whatever mischief they were cooking, it was obviously working. Harry briefly glanced at the excited witch. He didn't know how, but her excitement was attracting curious bystanders. Meanwhile, Fred and George confidently stood in front of the growing number of witches and wizards.

"Where's Harry Potter?" asked someone from behind the crowd.

"He's that good-looking boy right there!" the witch, who started it all, excitedly pointed her finger at Harry.

"Excuse us! May we have your attentions, please?!" Fred yelled giddily.

"We can explain everything!" George shouted merrily. For a moment, the twins caught the crowd's attention. That is, until another one voiced his observation.

"That's not Harry Potter." An old wizard, standing on the witch's left side contradicted crankily.

"Are you blind?" asked the witch irately of the old man. "Can't you see his scar?"

"People, please, if you will just listen to us, we can explain!" Fred exclaimed assertively. He was ignored, when another bystander made a loud comment.

"You're right! That's not him." Another wizard spoke aloud. He was standing a little behind the witch's right side. "I saw Harry Potter over two weeks ago."

Not to be dissuaded, the witch heatedly exclaimed, "I'm telling you! That's him!"

Harry was beginning to feel really worried. He wasn't sure anymore, if Fred and George could handle the growing crowd. They were getting unruly. He secretly looked around him, hoping to find a hiding place. Then, he noticed the cart's storage compartment. It looked like it was big enough for him to hide. He quickly scanned the crowd, to see if anyone was looking in his direction. Fortunately for him, everyone was watching the argument between the witch and a wizard. Ignored by the crowd, he inconspicuously went down on his hands and knees. He slightly nudged Fred and George apart, so he could get inside the cart's compartment. Both consummate mischief makers, the twins didn't let anyone know what was happening underfoot.

"There's only one way to find out," the old wizard earlier said aloud. "You there!" Everyone in the crowd looked towards Harry's direction, including Fred and George. The old man's brows narrowed, his eyes squinted. "Oi! He's gone!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Where did he go?!"

"You, two…" someone from the crowd shouted. "We know you're hiding him! Bring him out!"

"Yeah! We want to meet Harry Potter!" another one shouted.

"We're telling you… He's not Harry Potter!" Fred yelled back impatiently. "Those two…" He pointed at the old wizard and the other one. "…are right. The boy here earlier was not Harry Potter!" His voice was so loud; it could be clearly heard over the uproar.

"He's just someone we hired to look like Harry Potter!" George shouted urgently.

"Oh, really? If that boy wasn't Harry Potter, then, why doesn't he come out, and tell us himself?" The witch remained firmly unconvinced.

For a moment, the twins were at a lost for word. They couldn't decide whether to keep convincing the crowd, or bring out Harry. Their new hired help might convince these potential customers, that he was not Harry Potter. Or, he might not. Suddenly, they saw intimidating groups of wizards moving to the left and right sides of their cart. They were going to be boxed in. The twins felt like they were back in Hogwarts again. A group of students once cornered them, demanding their money back. After a brief exchange of worried looks, they came to a decision.

"People, please, if you'll all calm down, we'll let…" Fred began persuasively.

"Can't you see? They're lying to us again!" The witch irately cut the rest of Fred's sentence. She momentarily faced the crowd. "That boy was really Harry Potter! And, we have the right to meet him!" The witch turned around again, and angrily glared at the Weasleys. "We want to meet Harry Potter! Bring him out here!"

"Yeah! We want Potter!"

"We . want . Potter!"

"We . want . Potter!"

Led by the irate witch, a chant started. Soon, everyone was clamoring to see The-Boy-Who-Lived.

( ( o ) )

Inside the cart's cupboard, Harry was surprised to discover a closet-sized space. He had no idea, the twins knew such an advance magic. After surveying his surrounding, he curiously inspected a few items in the shelves. He curiously peered inside one hand-woven basket. There were multi-colored balls in it. He gingerly picked a red one, and closely examined it. It was hard. Then, he hesitantly smelled it. It smelled chocolaty. For a moment, he wondered what it would do. Carelessly shrugging his shoulders, he put it in mouth, and chewed. It was chocolate alright. And then… Poof! He suddenly changed into a guinea fowl. After a few moments, he changed back.

"Woah! That was wicked." He grinned in amazement.

Then, he moved on to sample some of the other joke products. He lost track of time. He found himself enjoying the joke products. But after a while, he stopped. He was getting tired. He, then, carefully examined himself. He found nothing wrong. He was glad there were no side effects. He didn't want to get out there with extra appendages. He wonderingly looked around him again. He marveled at the twins' brilliance. Most of their products were simply innovative, cutting edge joke, so to speak. Suddenly, his eyes gleamed with mischief.

"This is sweet," he muttered to himself. "Those two jokers don't remember me, or our prank war." He grinned broadly. "Payback's a bitch." Then, another thought popped inside his head. "Wait a minute… If they don't remember, does it mean it's off?" For a few minutes, he wondered about that. He definitely didn't want to start an unprovoked prank war. He carefully weighed the pros and cons. Finally, he came to a decision. "I'll just get them for the two they still owe me, and then, I'll stop." Nodding his head as if he's agreeing with himself, he confirmed his resolve. "Yeah, that's what I'll do. Now, how do I make it look like I'm not playing a prank on them?"

It was over an hour, when Fred and George finally let him out. He found out they were fined for the mischief they caused. All of their hard earned gold would now go to the Ministry coffer. Harry felt sorry for them. He wanted to help, but he didn't have any money. Then, he remembered his alleged vault in Gringotts. He could help them with some of his money. At first, he hesitated to suggest his solution. He didn't feel the money belonged to him, or if there was anything left. But, when he saw the twins' dejected faces, he uncertainly offered his help. Fred and George cautioned him of the tough competition, facing their start-up business. Harry already saw their ingenious products. And, he already knew of their brilliant talents. So, in those scores, he was confident they would succeed. He said so as much. After that, they all shook hands to seal the deal.

( ( o ) )

Harry was once again, walking in the street of Diagon Alley. His head, however, was covered with the cowl of his borrowed cloak. Fred and George offered to accompany him. But, he didn't want to get them into deeper trouble, with their parents. He surreptitiously looked at the witches and wizards, he passed by. He still couldn't understand what the fuss was all about. For a moment, he wondered if the incident earlier was somehow connected, with his strange circumstance. In a span of several days, he went from nobody to somebody. Magical folks were really weird, he thought to himself in bemusement.

He managed to reach Gringotts without any incident. He pulled his hood off as soon as he entered the prestigious wizarding bank. There were several Goblin tellers sitting behind a high, marble counter. Each of them was entertaining a client. Since he didn't want to call attention to himself, he picked the farthest teller in the row. He stood a few meters behind a wizard already engaged in business with the Goblin teller. He waited anxiously. He hoped his transaction would go smoothly.

"Next!"

The sharp call snapped Harry to attention. He quickly stepped forward. "Hello, sir…" he greeted amiably. "I would like to withdraw three thousand galleons, please."

For a moment, the Goblin regarded him with cold indifference. "Key, please," the teller gutturally requested.

"Yes…my key." Harry was already aware; the Goblin teller would ask some sort of identification. It was a bank, after all. "I don't have one," he said awkwardly. The Goblin slightly frowned. "But, I do have a vault here. A friend of my parents told me."

The Goblin suspiciously scrutinized him. Harry didn't flinch from the teller's pointed stare. He thought the Goblin was probably debating, whether he was a would-be bank robber, or not. He got a feeling the bank teller would ask him probing questions, next. He only hoped his monetary transaction wouldn't get reported to his parents, right away. It would certainly put a crimp on his plan to help the twins, if his parents blocked his withdrawal.

"Your name, please," the Goblin asked sternly.

"Harry Ev… Potter," he answered uneasily. He always felt a little weird, saying his true family name.

"Are you, now?" The Goblin teller literally looked displeased. Harry was puzzled. He didn't have a clue, why the Goblin would look upset. The teller, then, coldly handed him a quill, and a rolled parchment. "Please write your name, and the amount of gold you like to withdraw," the Goblin instructed curtly.

Harry unrolled the parchment. He was surprised to see it was blank. He didn't let it bother him, though. He just assumed withdrawal forms were different in the wizarding world. There was a _Closed_ sign plate on one side of the counter's upper deck. He picked it up, and put it lengthwise on his parchment. The plate kept the parchment from curling back. He briefly glanced to his left and right sides, and a little further down the marble counter after that. He didn't see any ink bottle.

"Do you have an ink bottle?" Harry casually asked the Goblin teller. "I don't see one here." For a brief moment, he saw an odd gleam in the Goblin's eyes.

"Just write on the parchment, _Mr. Potter_," the Goblin teller told him coldly.

Harry casually studied the quill. "So, is this charmed to produce ink, like a fountain pen?" The Goblin just coolly regarded him. He got a suspicious feeling the bank teller didn't believe him, when he said his name was Harry Potter. "Right, I'll just write down my name, and the amount I like to withdraw." He awkwardly smiled at the Goblin. Thinking it would further annoy the bank teller, if he dilly-dallied; he proceeded to write down his name.

"What the…" Harry immediately dropped the quill at the sudden pain. When he looked at his left palm, he saw a letter **H** carved there. To his relief, the wound healed quickly. He, then, realized whatever he wrote on the parchment, would be inked with his blood. He angrily glared at the Goblin teller. "What the bloody hell is going on? That stupid quill writes with my blood!"

The Goblin teller merely looked at him, unperturbed. "That is a blood quill, _Mr. Potter_. Outside this bank, it is declared illegal by the Ministry. We use it to confirm the identity of anyone, who claims to have an account with us." Suddenly, a ruthless demeanor settled over the Goblin's face. "You must understand, _Mr. Potter_… Nobody steals from us, and gets away with it."

"I don't give a shite about your policy! You should have warned me first!" Harry angrily held the Goblin teller's eyes a few more seconds, before inspecting his left palm again. He didn't see any scar. But, he could still feel residual pain. He deeply rubbed his palm with his right thumb to massage away the stinging sensation.

"We know it is an unpleasant practice, _Mr. Potter_. It is for _that_ reason we employ this method," the Goblin informed him unemotionally. "It discourages would-be thieves. And, it ensures our clients' gold remains in their respective vaults." The Goblin briefly glanced at the open parchment. Written on it was the still wet letter **H**. There was a thoughtful expression on his face, when he looked at Harry again. "I humbly apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Potter. But, like I said, it is a necessary bank procedure."

Harry immediately noticed a change in the Goblin's tone of voice. It sounded more accommodating. "I'm not writing anything with that bloody blood quill. If you want proof of my identity, I'll show you my passport." He didn't have a passport, of course. It was just a bluff. He was counting on the subtle change in the Goblin's disposition.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Potter." The Goblin teller signaled at someone behind him. Harry was a little surprised, when another Goblin suddenly stood beside him. "Gorok, please accompany Mr. Potter to his account manager."

The new Goblin slightly bowed in acknowledgement. Then, he turned to Harry. "Please, follow me, Mr. Potter." Without a backward glance, the new Goblin quickly walked away. Harry immediately followed, wondering why he needed to see his... _account manager?_.

( ( o ) )

Harry was shown inside an office. He curiously looked around him. The room was quiet, and just adequately lit. Old books lined the wall behind an ornate, mahogany desk. Like the lobby, the decoration was Victorian. He was surprised to see the statues and paintings were of human likeness. He was curiously inspecting a sword, when the door he earlier walked in, quietly opened.

"Mr. Potter, I presume?" a voice amiably asked him.

Harry quickly whirled around, startled. "Er…yeah." He immediately searched for the owner of the voice.

He saw a little Goblin briskly walked toward the table, pleasantly smiling at him. The Goblin was wearing a business suit, more common during the early 1900. For a moment, the Goblin disappeared behind the large desk. He, then, heard scraping sounds, followed by something bulky loudly hitting a wood. A few grunts later, the little Goblin was comfortably seated, and pleasantly smiling at him again.

"My name is Omek. I am your account manager." The Goblin extended his nail-sharp, bony hand, which Harry briefly shook. "Please, have a seat, Mr. Potter. I'm getting a crick on my neck, looking up at you." Harry apologetically smiled at his account manager, before sitting down. Omek nodded in understanding. With his hands clasped over the desk, Omek expectantly looked at Harry. "How may I help you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, I like to withdraw some money." His account manager didn't speak. He merely nodded encouragingly. "I like to withdraw three thousand galleons." Still, the Goblin didn't speak. He looked like he was attentively waiting for more instructions. "That's all for now."

"I can easily do that." Harry secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He was afraid there was none left. "But, are you sure that is all you want, Mr. Potter?" his account manager quizzically asked him. "Aren't you a bit curious about your earnings, for the last fifteen years?"

Harry was taken aback. "My earnings?" He wasn't sure earlier, if his vault got enough galleons to cover his withdrawal. But, to be told he made some profit, it was unbelievable. The Dursleys couldn't be that generous.

"Yes… I must say, your vault accumulated quite a fortune over the years." Omek looked proud of himself.

"Sure… Why not?" Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "You can tell me about that." With the Dursley siphoning his vault, he didn't really expect much. He was content he could withdraw the money he needed.

"Very good, Mr. Potter." Omek beamed lightly at him. He shuffled several parchments on his desk, before he found the one he wanted. "Ahem… Before your parents died…"

"WHAT?" Harry stood up in shock. "My parents are dead?" A feeling of disbelief, mixed with confusion, overcame him. "There must be a mistake. When did this happen? How?" he asked frantically.

Omek quizzically looked at him. "It happened fifteen years ago, Mr. Potter. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named went to…"

"You mean Voldemort?" Harry asked disbelievingly. He was definitely confused. How could it happen fifteen years ago? They were alive a month ago.

"Yes…" Omek replied uneasily. "He went to your house at Godric's Hollow, and murdered your parents." Harry was getting more confused. His parents didn't live in Godric's Hollow. Omek slowly pointed at his forehead. "He also gave you that scar, Mr. Potter." Harry reflexively touched his scar…his _lightning bolt-shaped_ scar. The story the Goblin was telling him sounded very familiar. He actually knew, what his account manager would say next. "The Unforgiveable Curse meant to kill you, Mr. Potter, destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named instead."

For a moment, Harry carefully searched the Goblin's face. His account manager looked serious. But, he wasn't. "You're joking, right?" he asked amusingly. But, the Goblin merely gave him a puzzled look. "You're telling me… I'm The-Boy-Who-Lived?" he asked in disbelief.

The puzzled expression on Omek's face deepened. "Yes, you are, Mr. Potter."

"Me? The-Boy-Who-Lived?" Harry chuckled a little, expecting the Goblin to laugh any minute now. But, his account manager really looked serious. The Goblin actually believed he was The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry's face slowly lost its amused expression. "If I'm The-Boy-Who-Lived, where is your proof?"

"It's right there on your forehead, Mr. Potter." Omek couldn't understand why the boy didn't believe him. Surely, somebody must have told him. At least, Dumbledore would have told him.

Harry's face turned sour. He placed his palms on the table, and threateningly leaned closer to the Goblin. His voice was as cold as ice, when he spoke again. "If this is some kind of a joke, it's not funny. I know who is The-Boy-Who-Lived. And, I'm not him. Now, unless you can provide a more convincing proof, don't ever mistake me for him again." After a few tense seconds, he straightened up. "My parents aren't dead either. I saw them alive a month ago."

Omek impassively studied Harry for a moment. He was beginning to think, someone purposely kept the boy in the dark. The boy probably didn't even know his true parents were dead. He, then, climbed down from his high chair, and went to the bookshelves. After several seconds, he found what he was looking for. Omek, next, went to Harry, and offered him an old, thick book.

"The event of your parents' death is in this book. The downfall of the Dark Lord is also in this book. Turn the page to 271. You can start there." Omek casually returned to his seat.

Harry doubtfully read the title of the book, _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_. He carefully studied it for a moment, flipping pages after pages. The book looked authentic. He quietly sat down, and started reading. When he finished reading the relevant chapters, he was still unconvinced. So, the Goblin handed him two more books, _Modern Magical History_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_. After reading seven different books, from seven different authors, there was little doubt in his mind. He was not egotistic enough to think those seven people, who he probably never met in his life, would fabricate such intricate prank on him. He was nobody. He, then, regarded his account manager. He doubted the Goblin would prank him also.

"Longbottom …" he whispered ponderingly. Somehow, he switched fate with Neville. And, this madness all started, when he woke up from the dead. It must be it.

"I beg your pardon? I didn't quite hear that," Omek inquired politely. He was deeply puzzled by his client's reaction. His story should be old news to the boy.

As if in a trance, Harry lightly touched his scar again, tracing its shape with his finger. Then, he looked at the Goblin in disbelief. "I'm The-Boy-Who-Lived?"

Omek didn't know what other response to give. So, he repeated his same answer earlier. "Yes, you are, Mr. Potter."

There was a moment of quiet reflection. Then, suddenly, Harry jumped up in an emotional outburst. He paced the floor agitatedly. "But… But, that can't be! It's impossible! Neville is The-Boy-Who-Lived! How did this happen?"

"Mr. Potter…" Omek called calmly.

Harry didn't hear him. He agitatedly continued pacing the marble floor. "My parents are dead! My Uncle Max's family is alive! Nobody recognized me! What the bloody hell is going on?"

"Mr. Potter!" Omek called louder.

"WHAT?" Harry was breathing hard, when he rounded on his account manager. His yellow-green eyes were blazing with restrained anger…and confusion.

"I don't know what you are babbling about. But, I assure you… _You_ are The-Boy-Who-Lived. I'm sorry your parents are dead, but it is the fact." Omek looked steadfastly at his client, willing him to get a hold of himself. "Now… May we go back to the business at hand? Time is gold, Mr. Potter."

Breathing slowly in and out, Harry managed to clear his head, and control his temper. He slowly nodded his head in acknowledgement. He went back to his chair, and slowly sat down. He didn't trust himself to speak. So, he remained quiet, and waited for his account manager to continue.

( ( o ) )

Before he started, Omek momentarily observed his client. It seemed to him the boy wasn't well informed of his family heritage, or the role he played in the wizarding world. Given his client's temper, he pitied the person, who would shed light on those subjects.

"I'm sorry I have been the bearer of bad news, Mr. Potter. I thought Dumbledore, at least, explained to you, what happened to your family." His client just silently nodded in acknowledgement. But, he could see the burning anger, behind the yellow-green eyes. "Moving on…" Omek momentarily straightened his parchments. "You must understand, Mr. Potter. I cannot discuss the details of your inheritance. You have to see the executor of your parents' will." Again, his client silently nodded. "Ahem… According to your account record, you have a total of three million, one hundred seven thousand, one hundred ninety eight galleons in your vault." Omek saw his client's expression changed slowly to incredulity. He inwardly smiled. He got a feeling those numbers would douse his client's anger.

The Goblin was right in his assumption. The exorbitant amount of gold did douse Harry's anger. Harry was stunned. He never had such large amount of money in his life. This also confirmed he was living a life not his own. The Dursleys would never have let him keep the money, if everything was as it was. His anger forgotten, he momentarily tried to think, how he could put everything back to normal. His life might not be a happy one, but it was something he knew. He also didn't like the idea of being The-Boy-Who-Lived. Neville could have it, he thought to himself.

"Shall we discuss your future investments?" When Harry looked up, he saw his account manager proudly smiling at him. "Your parents made a wise decision, letting me handle your investments."

"Whatever you decide is fine with me." The Goblin delightedly beamed at him. Harry wasn't really interested with his finances at the moment. He was more concerned with the mysterious fate, he found himself into. "The Potters… Do they have a family vault?"

For a moment, the Goblin looked ill-at-ease. "Yes," he answered simply.

"I like to see it, please," Harry requested calmly. He didn't really need to see it. But, he was curious to know, what the rest of his family considered _valuable_.

"It is against bank regulations. You cannot see it, until after the will reading." Harry's face fell. "There are papers to sign first." He nodded glumly. "But, since you are the only remaining Potter…" Harry was shocked anew, with the knowledge of being the only Potter alive. "…hence, technically the head of your family, I think I can arrange it. Would you give me a moment?" Harry nodded silently. The Goblin climbed down his high chair, and hurriedly walked out the door. After several minutes, he came back with a pleased look on his face. "Please follow me, Mr. Potter." The Goblin immediately walked out the door again. Harry quickly followed.

They entered a huge, deep cavern. The Goblin confidently stepped inside a parked metal trolley. Harry uncertainly followed. Looking down, he noticed the winding, iron tracks looked old, and unstable. He hoped the Goblin wouldn't take a short cut, by letting the trolley jumped off the track. They moved slowly at first, on a level track. Then, suddenly, they dropped. Harry screamed in surprise. After a few seconds, he recovered. He raised both his arms in excitement. He couldn't help it. It was like an underground, rollercoaster ride. They zipped past rows, upon rows of bank vaults, going even deeper. After several minutes, the trolley began to slow down. Harry felt invigorated. It was a shame the ride ended so soon.

The Goblin led Harry through a dimly lit, roughly hewn tunnel. He felt the cold air, and smelled the strong scent of earth. Here and there, he saw water puddles on the ground. For a moment, he wondered how deep they went down. The tunnel opened in a big chamber. There was a statue of a male lion, in the middle of the floor. It was huge, almost the size of a bull elephant. The lion's head was resting on the floor, between its two forepaws. Its lifelike eyes were fixed at some faraway prey. It looked liked it was getting ready to attack.

The Goblin slightly turned towards him. "That is the way to your family vault." He pointed to the lion. "You may open it, if you wish." The Goblin, then, stood to one side, giving Harry a clear path.

"How?" Harry asked quizzically.

"A drop of blood on the nose will do, Mr. Potter." The Goblin casually handed him a pocket knife.

Harry was about to make a cut on his left forefinger, but a thought came to him. "Just out of curiosity… if I _open_ it, and I'm not Harry Potter, what will happen?" he asked casually.

The Goblin grinned wickedly. "This lion will eat you, chew you a little bit, and then, spit you out." Harry inwardly flinched. That would hurt a lot. "But, you don't have to worry," the Goblin told him reassuringly. "You won't even get a chance to talk to me, if you're not Harry Potter. The parchment, the bank teller gave you, was charmed to identify you. Your blood proves to us you're Harry Potter. Otherwise, the guards in the lobby would have immediately escorted you to the Ministry. Trying to deceive Gringotts is a serious offense, Mr. Potter." His account manager shrugged nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I got that idea from the bank teller," Harry replied sarcastically.

Harry anxiously studied the lion statue again. He knew he got nothing to fear. He was a Potter. His parents might have abandoned him. But, they didn't disown him. He made a small, quick cut on his left forefinger. Gathering his courage, he slowly approached the statue. Extending his forefinger, he gingerly touched the lion's nose. He immediately withdrew his finger, when the lion statue directly looked at him. Its eyes suddenly glowed red.

The lion statue lifted its head off the floor. Harry didn't move from his spot. He got a strange feeling the lion statue was studying him. After a few more seconds, its eyes returned to normal. Then, it lazily sat up, and slowly shook its mane. He stepped back a little, to avoid a shower of dusts, and small rocks. When the dusts cleared, he saw a narrow opening in its belly. For a moment, he was hesitant to enter.

"Go ahead, Mr. Potter. The guard of you family vault recognized you, as the rightful heir."

Hearing the Goblin's encouraging voice, Harry slowly approached the entrance. He thought, for a moment, the lion statue would pounce, once he got closer. But, it didn't. Relieved, he walked more confidently toward the dark opening, right between the lion's two forelegs. Once he stood at the entrance, torches automatically lit inside. He saw stone steps leading downward. Nodding at his account manager in thanks, he entered with a mixture of nervousness, and excitement.


	7. Seriously Speaking

_Disclaimer: Characters of the Harry Potter saga are owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is written as a fan fiction. No right infringement is intended. Any similarity to other Harry Potter fan fictions is purely coincidental._

Summary: AU. Albus Dumbledore keeps a secret that may be the very downfall of the wizarding world. Will Voldemort learn of this secret, which Dumbledore values more than the prophecy? Or, will someone find out what it is?

--

Chapter 7: Seriously Speaking

Number twelve Grimmauld Place was just what the name implied, grim and old. It belonged to the Black family, who were practitioners of the Dark Arts, and supporters of You-Know-Who. It would have remained grim and old, if it were not for Sirius Black, who took possession of the house. Now, anyone who walked inside would think it belonged to an average, and happy wizarding family.

At the moment, the house was full of members of the Order of the Phoenix. Most of them were in the enlarged game room, watching six Hogwarts students trained. Some of the spectators yelled out advice. Some just clapped, and cheered, as the trainees made remarkable defense, or offense.

"Okay… That's all for now," Sirius shouted over the din. "Nice use of Summoning Charm, Luna… you too, Hermione. You all showed marked improvements. But, you still have a lot to learn…" Sirius quickly glanced at his watch. "…It's almost lunch time. You can all go. Don't forget to read the books I gave you."

One by one the students headed toward the door. However, Madam Pomfrey accosted them, before they could walk out of the room.

"You're very generous with your praise, Sirius," a disgruntled Mad Eye observed. He watched the ruffled students, as they followed the school nurse, probably to another room.

"Take it easy, Mad Eye. They're only students." Sirius watched the last of the students exit the door, before facing his former instructor. "Haven't you heard of positive reinforcement? Besides, it'll be a long time, before they'll actually fight Death Eaters."

"Constant vigilance!" Mad Eye earnestly said. "Haven't I kept reminding you of that one? We are in uncertain times. You have to instill in them the importance of this training."

"Oh, I'm sure they know," Sirius replied confidently. "Haven't you seen them with your own eyes? You have to admit they improve a lot."

"Yes, there is improvement, but not enough. The only one I see working truly hard is Longbottom. And, you know as well as I do the reason behind it. You have to push them harder." Mad Eye saw Mrs. Weasley stood by the door, and called everybody to lunch. He gave Sirius a pointed look, before limping his way out the door.

Sirius was left in the middle of the room, considering Mad Eye's words. Perhaps, it was time for a one to one instruction, Sirius thought. He would bring it up in the Order meeting, scheduled after lunch. He hoped he could get volunteers from the other members. Satisfied with his course of action, he joined the others in the kitchen.

( ( o ) )

After eating Mrs. Weasley's delicious cooking, everyone was in a good mood. It was seldom, Order members enjoyed a brief moment of camaraderie. Mrs. Weasley, as always, immediately herded the loudly protesting Hogwarts students, out of the kitchen.

"You're joking," boomed Hagrid's voice. His whole body was shaking with laughter. "The boy's bum was the only thing he could remember."

"Yeah, I know." Mrs. Arabella Figg was amusedly shaking her head. "Sometimes, I wonder about that old oaf."

"I wouldn't," Mundungus Fletcher put in his two knuts. The old bloke might be batting for the other team in his old age, Dung thought.

Across from them, Mrs Weasley was engaged in conversation with Auror Nymphadora Tonks. "I don't know what to do with those two." Mrs. Weasley carefully set a glass of cold water, near the head of the table, before sitting down. "To make matter worse, someone invested in their joke business. Now, I hardly see them at all. They are so irresponsible to be left on their own."

Tonks nodded her head, and smiled in understanding. Mrs. Weasley might berate her twins. But, the truth was she was worried about them, especially now they moved out of the Burrow. "I'm sure they'll be fine Mrs. Weasley. Didn't you mention three days ago their business was attracting too much attention?" Tonks teasingly reminded the anxious mother. Mrs. Weasley gave the pink-haired Auror a stern look. But, after a few seconds, the redheaded mother's face broke into a mischievous smile. Both, Tonks and Mrs. Weasley burst into gales of laughter.

Mad Eye was quiet. He was busy observing the witches and wizards around him, especially Snape who was softly talking with Professor McGonagall.

In one corner of the kitchen, Bill Weasley, Sirius, and Remus were huddled together talking quietly. "Are you telling me, someone made a withdrawal from the Potter Vault without Harry?" Sirius asked incredulously. He couldn't believe what he just heard. As far as he knew, Harry was the only living Potter.

"How was that possible?" Remus asked in disbelief. "I thought only Harry, as Head of the Family, could enter the Potter Vault."

The two marauders were quiet for a moment. They were surprised, and worried. "Did you ask the Goblins for the identity of the person, who made the withdrawal?" Sirius asked tensely.

Bill looked them in the eye. "Yes, I did." The two marauders didn't interrupt, tensely waiting for the rest of the answer. "They wouldn't tell me. They said it was a business transaction that had nothing to do with me."

"What!" Sirius exclaimed incredulously. Remus lightly touched his forearm. Sirius momentarily looked at Remus, and then, noticed the other Order members curiously staring at them. He ignored the others, and was about to ask another question, when the kitchen door opened.

Dumbledore entered, and purposely strode across the room. His face was all business like. "I'm sorry for keeping everyone waiting. Please, have a seat." Dumbledore remained standing at the head of the table. When everyone found their seats, he sat down. "I just received disturbing information from Bill, concerning Mr. Potter's family vault." Everyone noticed the headmaster didn't formally open the meeting. It could only mean they were going to discuss a very serious matter. "Naturally, I went to Gringotts to verify it, under the pretense of reviewing Mr. Potter's account." He momentarily paused, as if he was considering his next word. The Order members waited anxiously. "Someone has indeed gained access to Mr. Potter's family vault. Ragnok refused to divulge the identity of the person. In fact, he had the gall to remind me of the wizarding statutes, which governed privacy of family vaults." Uneasy silence settled inside the kitchen.

"It might be Harry, under some disguise," Hestia Jones suggested tentatively.

"Impossible. Mr. Potter is a minor. He won't gain access to his family vault, until he's of age," Professor McGonagall contradicted immediately.

"How could this happen?" Remus rhetorically asked. "I thought Goblins have safeguards against this kind of situation."

"They have," Bill answered gravely. "Whoever entered the Potter Vault somehow fooled the Goblins, and the security wards protecting the vault."

"Preposterous!" Dung exclaimed, unconvinced. "Steal from a high security vault? Protected by dragons and Goblin magic? This is not some regular vault like four years ago… or was it five… Anyway, it's impossible." Nevertheless, Dung decided there and then, to keep his eyes and ears open. It could prove profitable.

Dumbledore let the other Order members discussed, or argue their theories as the case may be. He couldn't help but think, Voldemort had something to do with it. When he spoke again, the hubbub reduced to a minimum. "Severus, do you have anything more to say about the ritual, Voldemort performed over two weeks ago?"

Everyone turned their attention to the Potions Master. "I have nothing more to report, headmaster." Snape returned Dumbledore's probing gaze, unperturbed.

"And the vial… is there anything left of its content?" Dumbledore asked interestedly.

"None, headmaster," Snape answered cryptically, refusing to look away.

"Headmaster…" Mad Eye interrupted the two-way conversation. "…What is this ritual you are talking about?" There was a mild curiosity on his face.

Dumbledore suddenly became aware of the puzzled expressions of the other Order members. He didn't want to discuss it, but he had no choice. In the light of what happened in Gringotts, he needed all the help he could get. The main problems were Sirius and Remus. He didn't know how the two marauders would react.

"Two weeks ago, Severus brewed a potion for Voldemort, who used it in a black ritual." Dumbledore momentarily stopped to clear his parched throat. He took a sip of cold water, Mrs. Weasley left, near his end of the table. "The ritual was designed to locate, and summon Mr. Potter from wherever he was hiding. I am pleased to inform you, the ritual failed." Order members gave a collective sigh of relief. "However, Severus paid dearly for that failure." A few half-heartedly acknowledged the Potions Master's sacrifice. Dumbledore, himself, offered Snape an apologetic look.

"I'm sure it was a great sacrifice on his part, professor," Sirius rudely interrupted with a hint of sarcasm. "But, is this ritual has anything to do with the Potter Vault?"

"Indeed it may have, Sirius," Dumbledore answered gravely. "You have to understand. In order to protect Severus' cover as a spy, I have to give certain information…mostly trivial information. But, in this case…" The headmaster's grave look deepened. "I gave Severus a vial of Harry Potter's blood." Eerie silence greeted Dumbledore's revelation. Except for the headmaster and Snape, everyone had one expression on their faces…shock.

Suddenly, the kitchen exploded with shouts of protest, accusations, and denials. But, none was as vocal as Sirius. Chairs fell on the floor with a loud crash. Remus powerfully wrapped his arms around the struggling Sirius, to stop him from manhandling Dumbledore.

"Sirius, will you calm down! Will you please let the headmaster explain himself?" It took most of Remus' werewolf strength to hold on to his friend.

"CALM DOWN? CALM DOWN?" Sirius yelled in rage. "That old prat is playing with Harry's life! He has no right to do that! He has no right!" Realizing he couldn't break Remus' hold, he decided to reach for his wand.

"_Petrificus Totalus_"

Sirius felt his body suddenly went rigid. He was a little grateful, that Remus was holding him. Otherwise, he would have fallen flat on his face. He couldn't move. But, that didn't stop him from glaring angrily at Dumbledore. The room grew quiet. Everyone was tensely watching the interplay.

"Mr. Black, you are not talking to one of your students. You will show respect," Professor McGonagall said sternly. Remus shifted Sirius' frozen body a little bit, so that he was facing Professor McGonagall. Tonks snorted, as the move reminded her of a puppet show. She's not the only one either.

"He'll be good, Minerva. You'll be good, won't you?" Remus tipped Sirius body twice in rapid succession. Tonks snorted again. "See, he agrees."

Professor McGonagall pressed her lips tight. She was not amused. Nevertheless, she reluctantly released Sirius from the Body Bind Curse. But, she kept her wand pointed at the pissed off marauder, just in case.

"You can let go now, Remus," Sirius said in a strained voice. He slowly turned around, and frowned at his friend. Remus contritely shrugged. "You can put away your wand, Minerva. I promise not to attack the headmaster… yet." Sirius angrily glared at Dumbledore for a moment, before straightening his chair to sit down. Remus hesitantly followed suit. "So, let's hear your excuse, headmaster," Sirius said coldly.

Dumbledore sadly sighed. At that moment, he looked his one hundred fifty one years of age. "It was not my intention to put Mr. Potter in harm's way…" He somberly looked round the table. "…What I did was a calculated risk. I have made every precaution to ensure his safety. He was never in danger."

"What if the ritual worked? What then?" Sirius asked harshly.

"I have provided Mr. Potter a portkey, as a means of escape. And, he constantly wears an amulet, that has a Tracking Charm," Dumbledore effortlessly answered.

"You know, as well as I do, those things can be easily overcome. Voldemort is too clever not to have considered those countermeasures. It was irresponsible of you to take that risk." Sirius stared hard at the headmaster. He could see Professor McGonagall giving him disapproving look, but he didn't care. "What I want is your word never to do anything so stupid, as to endanger Harry's life."

For a moment, the two wizards coldly held each other's gaze. "You have my word, Sirius." The tense atmosphere relaxed a bit, after the headmaster's pronouncement.

"Headmaster, I take it you are concerned, Lord Voldemort used some of Potter's blood, to open the vault?" Mad Eye asked gruffly. It was more of a statement, than a question.

"Indeed I am, Alastor." Dumbledore, once more, gave Snape a searching look. "If Voldemort, or any of his Death Eaters, didn't do it, then who could it be?" he asked almost to himself.

"Maybe you should ask Harry, professor," Hestia suggested again, firmly this time. She immediately noticed Professor McGonagall's irate look. "I know, I know, he is a minor. But, still, it won't hurt to ask. The Goblins just probably allowed him access as a favor."

For a moment, Dumbledore looked like he was considering Hestia's suggestion. Then, he sighed deeply. "I shall ask Mr. Potter. Now then, is there anymore issue, or problem, we need to address?"

"Professor…" Dumbledore calmly acknowledged Sirius, who appeared to be trying, to be civil. "…I have been informed that the training of the students is progressing slowly. I would like to ask, if some of the Order members could give their free time, to help with the training."

"We need every available hand, out in the field, Sirius. I am sorry, but you just have to do the best you can," Dumbledore replied almost dismissively. He, then, turned his attention to the other members. "Are there anymore concerns that we need to address?" Dumbledore waited patiently. No one spoke. "Voldemort and his Death Eaters are getting active. I advise each and every one of you to be constantly vigilant. Until our next meeting, I bid you all good day."

( ( o ) )

Sirius was sitting on his bed, when Remus entered his bedroom. He didn't look up. His eyes were focused inside a small, unadorned, crimson box in his hands. The box contained a signet ring, carved with the Potter Crest. He heard, rather than saw, his friend pull up a chair, and sat down opposite him. They didn't talk. They just silently kept each other company.

"Do you ever get the feeling Dumbledore doesn't like me?" Sirius asked softly, his attention still focused on the signet ring. He saw a palm held out in front of his face. He carefully laid the small box on his friend's open hand.

Remus curiously studied the signet ring inside the box, for a moment. Then, he returned it to his friend. "I'm not entirely sure. But, I do know he is intentionally keeping you away from Harry. Why? I have no idea." There was a brief moment of silence. "Are you going to give that ring to Harry?"

"Yes…" Sirius slowly closed the lid of the box. "…I promised James I would."

"One more year, and you can personally hand it to him." Remus shifted uneasily. He had no reason to believe Dumbledore would honor his promise.

As if reading his thought, Sirius asked, "Do you think Dumbledore will introduce me to Harry like he promised?" He looked at Remus, sadness clearly showing on his face. After a brief moment, he dropped his gaze to the crimson box. "I think back on all the past years, and all I see are missed opportunities. He could have become our best friend. We could have inducted him as a new marauder. Of course, he has to be an illegal Animagus first. And then, teach him everything we know in pranking. James would have loved that. I 'm not sure if Lily would, though." Sirius lapsed into poignant silence.

Remus didn't know what to say. He was a close friend to both Sirius and James. But, Sirius and James' friendship was different. They shared a bond…a bond of brotherhood. Sometimes, he envied them for that. But mostly, he was just grateful to be considered their friend, in spite of his condition. "Look, why don't we go to Diagon Alley, and buy Harry a present. It'll be his birthday in five days."

"Yeah, I forgot about his birthday. Thanks for reminding me, Remus. I shouldn't be sitting here wallowing in self pity. I should be out there looking for a perfect gift for Harry." Sirius put the ring box in the bedside table drawer, and stood up energetically. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go then."

Remus just shook his head in amusement, as he stood up. They walked toward the door. Remus reached for the door handle, and swung it open. There, in front of him, stood Tonks, who was in the act of knocking.

"Oh. Hello Remus. Have you seen Sirius?" Tonks asked a little breathless. She saw Sirius moved at Remus' side. She cheekily smiled, which made Remus' face grew warm. "Hello Sirius. Do you want to talk to me now? Or, shall I leave you two alone?"

Sirius scowled, and Remus blustered. "We're not like that. We like women only," Remus exclaimed heatedly.

"Don't listen to her. She's just ruffling your fur." Sirius patted his friend's shoulder. "You... stop teasing Remus, and get inside." He pulled Tonks none too gently inside his room. Before he closed the door, he scanned the hallway for prying eyes.

Sirius led Tonks to a table and chairs near a window. Once they were seated, he asked everything Harry did while at the Ministry. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had a standing order from the minister, to keep Sirius away from Harry, whenever he visited the Ministry. He could only watch Harry from afar, but not talked to him. Unfortunately, he'd be lucky just to know Harry was in the same building he was. He tried to circumvent the order many times, just to get a chance to meet Harry. Consequences, be damned. But, it was useless. He couldn't even get a glimpse of Harry's shadow. It was as if Fate was conspiring against him. If it wasn't for his deep concern for Harry, he would have left the Magical Law Enforcement a long time ago.

Tonks told the two marauders what Harry did, from the time he arrived, to the time he departed. She was always picked as one of the guards, because of her unique ability. This helped her make a report to Dumbledore and Sirius. She knew how much Sirius cared about Harry. So, she was more than happy to supply the information. If Dumbledore wasn't a well respected wizard, she would have given him a piece of her mind.

"Is that all? I mean, Harry can do a lot more. After all, he is The-Boy-Who-Lived." Remus couldn't believe at what he just heard.

"Yeah. Basically, Minister Scrimgeour and Harry just talk to the press most of the time. They seldom leave the Ministry," Tonks answered nonchalantly. She turned to Sirius. Usually, he was full of questions about Harry, after her every report. But now, he was quiet. "Sirius, are you alright?"

"How can Professor Dumbledore do this to Harry? Can't he see the Ministry only wants Harry as some sort of a propaganda figure? They're not interested in battling Voldemort, or protecting the wizarding communities." Sirius stood up, and agitatedly paced the floor. "If I can only talk to Harry, maybe I can convince him to…to…I don't know…maybe suggest a different course of action."

"Sirius…maybe it's not my place to say this…but…I don't think he will listen to you." Sirius stopped, and faced her. Tonk nearly flinched, when Sirius' intense gaze bore into her. She pressed her dry lips together, before continuing. "Harry…He's a little bit full of himself. Sure, he's intelligent. But, he seems to lack the qualities that most people find endearing." Sirius gave her a lopsided grin.

"Don't worry. His dad's the same. James was an arrogant, egotistical, son of a witch, when I first met him. But, we sure had lots of fun, hadn't we Remus?" The werewolf marauder interestedly looked everywhere, but Sirius' direction. The dog animagus scowled at him. "He just needs a few more years to mature." Tonks looked unconvinced, but she kept her mouth shut. Sirius seemed sure of his assessment. "So, got something more to tell us about Harry?"

"There is one other thing…" Tonks hesitated for a moment. She wasn't sure, if she should report something unfounded. "There seems to be a rumor, floating around among senior Aurors, about Harry." Sirius questioningly looked at her. Tonks just perplexedly shrugged her shoulders in response. "I don't know. Nobody wants to tell me, what it is. Not surprising, though. I'm just a lowly Auror."

For a moment, Sirius looked a bit puzzled himself. He never got a wind of any rumor about Harry. Perhaps, being known as Harry Potter's godfather got something to do with. "I'll look into it." Sirius smiled gratefully at Tonks. "I don't know what I'll do without your help, Tonks. If you need something, I'm here, okay?"

"Well, now that you mentioned it. You can buy me a beautiful dress at Madam Malkin, and tell your friend here to take me out to dinner. I think that will do." Tonks smiled teasingly at the two marauders.

Sirius laughed hard, while Remus blushed furiously. After a few light conversations, Tonks said her goodbye, and sneaked out of the room. A few more minutes later, the marauders also walked out of the bedroom, and out of the house, with Sirius constantly teasing Remus.

( ( o ) )

In no time, they were walking the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley. They first entered the Quidditch shop. Sirius wanted to buy a Firebolt for Harry. Remus, however, cautioned him, because they really had no idea what Harry liked.

"I'm telling you, Remus. Harry will like the Firebolt." Sirius was busy admiring the broom's streamline form to pay attention to Remus.

Remus just looked at his friend with amusement. It was hard to talk to Sirius, when he's like an excited little boy. "I suggest a little more practical than extravagant. Remember all the expensive gifts you gave Harry in the past years? Dumbledore didn't even tell us what happened to them."

"I know." Sirius lost his enthusiasm. Sadness welled up inside him. His gifts were his way of establishing a connection with his godson. If he received just one thank you note from Harry, he knew he accomplished it. But, as his friend reminded him, it was an act of futility.

Remus noticed Sirius was staring hard at the Firebolt. But, he got a feeling his friend wasn't closely studying it. Now, he felt bad. He wished he never opened his big mouth. "Sirius, why don't we leave the Firebolt for now, and look at some other things? Harry is going to be sixteen soon. So, I'm sure a racing broom will be the last thing on his mind." Remus hoped he could distract his friend from his depressing thoughts.

"Yeah, let's go," Sirius agreed glumly.

They stepped onto the busy street, and wandered from shop to shop. Without thinking, they entered another shop, and felt a puff of mist. The two marauders questioningly looked at each other. They noticed other patrons of the shop laughing at them. They looked at themselves, and saw their cloaks turned neon pink, with flowers of different bright colors.

Remus and Sirius laughed appreciatively. It had been a long time, since somebody found the guts to prank them. They approached the counter. They looked around, and saw the Weasley twins busy with other customers. It appeared they entered the twins' joke shop. They interestedly studied the various items in the glass counter, while they waited to be attended.

"Professor Lupin, Auror Black, I'm surprised to see you here," George happily greeted them. Then, suddenly, his face turned suspicious. "Did my mother send you here? Because, if she did, you can go back, and tell her…"

Remus laughingly cut him off, mid-rant. "No. No. Your mother didn't send us. We're shopping for a birthday gift, and we happen to stumble upon your shop."

"Oh. Alright then," George said, embarrassed. "Sorry about going off like that."

"It's quite alright," Remus lightly reassured.

"This is brilliant, Fred," Sirius enthused admiringly. "I'm really impressed. You and your brother accomplished so much, in so short a time."

"George," George supplied helpfully, grinning from ear to ear.

"Excuse me?" Sirius asked, puzzled. He took his eyes off the fake wands he was curiously studying, and looked at George.

"I'm not Fred. I'm George," George repeated. He saw Sirius smiled apologetically. "And, thank you by the way. So, what can I do for you gents?"

"As Remus said, we're looking for a birthday gift, but we don't know what to get." Sirius' brows knitted in concentration. "He's going to be sixteen by the end of this month."

"You're in luck. I have just the gift for you." He picked up a thick, funnel tube, and shouted through it. "Harry! I need the Party Pooper package, pronto!"

They heard a ding. George opened a small door in the wall behind him, and brought out a brown, shoe-size box. "There you go, one Weasley Party Pooper. It will liven up a dead boring birthday party. It comes complete with party hat, balloons, confetti, birthday song, birthday banner, and, of course, the exploding birthday cake." The two marauders briefly glanced at each other with amusement.

"Ah, George, we're looking for a gift to give, not prank the birthday celebrant," Sirius said with a smile.

"That's the beauty of the Weasley Party Pooper. You get to prank the birthday boy as well as give him your gift." George beamed widely. Remus scratched his head, and Sirius just gaped. Seeing their lack of understanding, George opened the box to demonstrate. "See, you wrap the real gift with this brown paper, and put it inside the box. Don't touch the other stuff in there. Once you close and tie the box with this red ribbon, the gift is ready. The surprise will activate, when the ribbon is removed."

"How big a gift can it hold?" Sirius asked in amazement. He couldn't believe at the creativity of the twins.

"No bigger than a broom," George replied casually.

"We'll take two." Sirius pulled out his gold pouch. "How much are they?"

"Five galleons and seven sickles…" George rung up the sale, put the boxes in a paper bag, and handed it to Sirius.

"Just out of curiosity… Why did you name it, _party pooper_?" Remus asked as he watched Sirius shrinked the paper bag.

"Well, in a way, the surprise kills the mood of the birthday celebrant. Unless, he's sporting enough to take it," George explained lightly. "Is there anything more I can interest you of buying? Dung Bombs… Fake Wands… Canary Creams…" Both Remus and Sirius just thanked him. As they headed out the door, George called out after them, "Don't hesitate to come back! Oh, and don't forget to tell your friends!"

"Goodbye, George!" The two marauders just casually waved at him, without looking back. Nevertheless, they could be heard chuckling on their way out.

( ( o ) )

Once more, the two marauders were back out on the street. Out of habit, Sirius quickly scanned his surroundings. He noticed the street was not so crowded, anymore. He briefly glanced at his watch. He was surprised to see it was already five o'clock in the afternoon.

"Where to now?" Remus casually asked beside him.

Sirius thought for a minute. He couldn't go back to the Ministry. It was already quitting time. Still, he got to sign out. He sighed wearily. "I'm going back to the Ministry. Got some more work to do."

Remus nodded in understanding. "Meet you at the house later, then."

After Sirius disapparated, the werewolf marauder thought about his friend. Sirius was becoming depressingly moody as Harry's birthday drew near. It was going to be another year of fruitless search for Harry. Perhaps, it was time to cheer him up a bit. Remus turned around, and went back inside the Weasley twins' joke shop. Sirius was getting cocky with his practical jokes, anyway. Pulling him down a peg or two would do him a world of good. Remus wickedly grinned at the thought.

Sirius casually stepped out of a fireplace, lining the huge corridor inside the Ministry. He saw a few witches and wizards, here and there, but none of the mad dash home of most Ministry employees. The normally busy corridor was almost empty. A person got to be constantly alert, so as not to accidentally bump on other people. He was glad he avoided that bedlam.

"Auror Black!" Sirius curiously looked over his shoulder, and saw a blond witch, wearing a long, green dress. He softly muttered a suffering groan. It was Rita Skeeter, and her faithful photographer, Bozo. He would have kept walking, but then, he realized the nasty reporter might know something about Harry. He stopped, and let the witch catch up to him. Once Rita and Sirius were closed enough to each other, Bozo immediately took a few pictures of them.

Sirius angrily glared at the photographer. "If you don't stop doing that, I'll smash that camera over your head." Wide-eye, Bozo gulped in fear, and hastily backed away from Sirius.

"Temper, temper, Auror Black… You don't want me to report you for Auror brutality, do you?" Sirius noticed the Quick-Quotes Quill, floating slightly behind Rita Skeeter, immediately started transcribing. He coldly regarded the infamous Daily Prophet reporter. If he wasn't an Auror, he would have slapped the stupid, smug smile off her face.

"What do you want, Skeeter?" he asked coldly. For a moment, he wondered who she was trying to ruin with her nasty lies now. He guessed the poor bastard must be a Ministry official.

Rita's face suddenly lost its smug and teasing expression. "Care to comment on Harry Potter's recent bullying on poor, defenseless, muggles?" The Quick-Quotes Quill was transcribing like mad.

Sirius was shocked, and worried. But, none of those feelings showed on his face. "What do you mean _recent bullying_? Harry never bullied anyone." He frowned coldly at Rita Skeeter. He knew the witch reporter was fond of unfairly twisting the truth. But, that grain of truth was what worried him.

"Can I quote you on that?" There was a gleam of malice in Skeeter's eyes.

Sirius heard and read a lot of things about Harry. Bullying was not one of them. But, he knew the moment he defended Harry; everything he said would only be twisted against his godson. "Find someone else to quote. I have no time for your sick joke." Sirius, then, turned around, and started walking toward the lift.

"Oh, this is not a sick joke, Auror Black." Skeeter's mocking voice made Sirius pause in mid-stride. "And, I already found someone to quote." After that, he heard footsteps, unhurriedly walking away. He uneasily turned around. He saw Rita Skeeter and her photographer stopped in front of the nearest fireplace. The photographer quickly jumped into the fire, first. The Daily Prophet reporter smirked at him one last time, before stepping inside the fireplace.

For a moment, Sirius stood undecided in the corridor. He didn't believe Harry bullied anyone. He was sure Skeeter was only making it up. But, the look on Skeeter's face told him otherwise. Quickly, he walked toward the same fireplace Skeeter used. As much as he hated to ask for Dumbledore's help, the headmaster was the only one, who could stop Skeeter's lies.


	8. The Daily Potter

_Disclaimer: Characters of the Harry Potter saga are owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is written as a fan fiction. No right infringement is intended. Any similarity to other Harry Potter fan fictions is purely coincidental._

Summary: AU. Albus Dumbledore keeps a secret that may be the very downfall of the wizarding world. Will Voldemort learn of this secret which Dumbledore values more than the prophecy? Or, will someone find out what it is?

--

Chapter 8: The Daily Potter

Sirius almost ran the distance from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. With great impatience, he pounded loudly on the door. It took a while, before the caretaker, Argus Filch, opened the door. Sirius wasted no time. He immediately walked past the surprise Filch. He went straight to the headmaster's office. Professor McGonagall found him later, shouting every known sweet to the gargoyle, guarding Dumbledore's office entrance.

"Auror Black! Why, in Merlin's name, are you shouting at that poor gargoyle?" the confuse transfiguration teacher asked sternly.

Sirius irately whirled around. "Because, the stupid thing won't let me in." He saw his former transfiguration teacher crossly frowned at him. "Professor, I need to talk to the headmaster. It's very important," he said urgently. He was slightly sweating and out-of-breath from his brisk walk.

Professor McGonagall confusedly looked at him for a moment. "Professor Dumbledore is not here. He went to a meeting." A look of frustration briefly crossed Sirius' face. "Perhaps, I can help."

For a moment, Sirius considered his options. "Could you tell me what meeting he attended? I really need to see him." Sirius tried to talk calmly, but he couldn't quite stop, sounding desperate.

"I'm sorry, Auror Black. Professor Dumbledore didn't tell me, where he was going," Professor McGonagall answered apologetically. "You can leave him a message, if you like. I'll give it to him, when he gets back."

"Can't I just wait for him in his office?" Sirius tried to smile charmingly. "I promise not to touch anything."

"Auror Black, no one is allowed inside the headmaster's office, without his permission." Professor McGonagall sternly glared at him. "You can come back tomorrow morning, if you really want to talk to him."

Sirius winced inwardly. He should have known better, than to try his charm on his transfiguration teacher. "No. Tomorrow will be too late." For a moment, he searched his cloak pockets. He found a receipt from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He tore it in two. Then, he transfigured one piece into a quill, and the other one into a parchment. Professor McGonagall helped him, by conjuring a small ink bottle. Sirius wrote his message carefully. "Please, professor, give this letter to the headmaster. It's really important that he gets this tonight. It's about my godson, Harry."

Professor McGonagall nodded determinedly. She could clearly hear the urgency in Sirius' voice. "I'll make sure Professor Dumbledore receives this, Auror Black."

"Thank you, professor." Sirius gratefully smiled. But, as he left, he couldn't help feeling, if Dumbledore could stop Rita Skeeter, from printing her story about Harry.

( ( o ) )

The next morning, Sirius was awakened by a tapping sound, on his bedroom window. As soon as he opened his window, an owl flew in, and dropped a rolled paper. The owl immediately flew out again. Sirius anxiously picked up the paper, and unrolled it. The Daily Prophet headline boldly screamed at him….

Harry Potter: Hero or Bully

Almost fifteen years ago today, a dark power threatened to engulf the wizarding world. A dark wizard, known to everyone as You-Know-Who, was killing muggles and wizards alike. The Ministry was powerless to stop him. Dumbledore was inutile. Everyone was in the grip of fear, until that night on the 31st of October 1981. For some unknown reason, You-Know-Who went to the Potter's house in Godric's Hollow. He killed husband and wife, James and Lily Potter. However, he failed to kill Harry Potter. His power was no match to the power of a fifteen-month old baby. The deadly Avada Kedavra curse only left a scar on baby Harry's forehead. However, it completely destroyed You-Know-Who.

Harry Potter was the only known wizard, who survived the Killing Curse. Hence, the wizarding world hailed him as The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry Potter became a household name. There is not a man, woman, or child in the wizarding world who doesn't know the name Harry Potter. Wizards admire him. Witches want to marry him. Children idolize him. In our hearts and minds, he is a hero, a savior. He can do no wrong. Oh, how we are sadly mistaken.

I ask you, my dear readers, "Is Harry Potter really a hero?" We truly don't know anything about The-Boy-Who-Lived. Aside from Dumbledore and the minister, who were always in contact with Harry Potter, nobody else really got the chance to talk to him. This reporter certainly loves to give him an in-depth interview. So, who is to say he is really the heroic wizard we imagine him to be? This reporter does not intend to sully the good name of Harry Potter. However, I feel it is my responsibility to inform my readership of the truth.

This reporter has found out, what our _hero_ do for fun. Yesterday morning, in a village called Little Whingam, Harry Potter was seen terrorizing muggles. Yes, terrorizing muggles. A muggle boy, by the name of Pudley Pursley, related to this reporter his harrowing experience…

( ( o ) )

At Hogwarts, Prof. McGonagall was hastily walking through the empty school corridors. She looked extremely agitated. She just read the headline story of the Daily Prophet. To her, it was not news. It was just a cheap, tasteless gossip. Once she reached the headmaster's office, she quickly knocked on the door.

"Come in, Minerva."

She pushed the door wide open, as soon as the key unlocked. She hastily entered. She immediately noticed the headmaster was already reading the Daily Prophet. As she approached the headmaster's table, Dumbledore carefully folded his copy, and set it to one side of the desk. Prof. McGonagall saw a worried expression on his face, as he looked at her.

"Have you read the headline story on the Daily Prophet, headmaster?" she asked anxiously.

"Indeed I have," Dumbledore answered gravely.

"Is it true?" She knew Harry Potter received an outstanding score in his O.W.L. transfiguration. So, it disturbed her to read such talent, being used to tease muggle. According to the _news_, Potter transformed the muggle boy's lower body into a pig's hind part.

"I don't know." Dumbledore sighed wearily. "I have to talk to Scrimgeour to verify this."

"Was this what Sirius wrote to you about?" Professor McGonagall asked anxiously.

For a moment, Dumbledore looked confuse. Then, as if remembering something, he searched his cluttered desk for a folded parchment. He sighed with regret, once he read the letter. "Yes, it was." He was so tired after his meeting; he thought the letter from Sirius could wait.

In a sitting room in Malfoy Manor, its ornate, mahogany walls echoed with a harsh sound of laughter. The Dark Lord and the Head of Malfoy House were, at the moment, reading the headline news of the Daily Prophet.

"Harry Potter, you surprise me. I didn't think you got it in you." Voldemort was thoroughly enjoying himself. Over the years, Potter was always described as a hero. He was brave, good-looking, intelligent, and powerful. At times, he was even compared to Merlin himself. Voldemort was sick and tired of it. This was the first bit of good news he heard in a long time. It was precious. "Malfoy, read that part again about the muggle's shorts."

"Yes, my lord." Malfoy, with a smile of amusement, began reading. "Pursley revealed to this reporter that Potter pulled his shorts down, and flipped him upside down in midair. His short unmentionable was exposed for all to see. The poor, muggle boy almost died from the humiliation. Pursley threatened that if he saw Potter again, he would give him a good, sound thrashing."

In a bedroom upstairs also in Malfoy Manor, Draco was grinning ear to ear as he read the news to his two best mates. "Potter, then, made him dance naked…" He stopped for a moment, and smiled at his mates. "Hear that Crabbe? Goyle? I bet you Potter will be in Slytherin, if he goes to Hogwarts." His two goons merely grinned in agreement. Draco was thrilled at the thought. With Harry Potter on his side, no one would dare oppose his claim for leadership this year and the next.

In the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place, five Hogwarts students couldn't believe what they were hearing. They were huddled around Ron, who was loudly reading the newspaper. Mrs. Weasley, who was busy preparing breakfast earlier, also stopped to listen to her son. Ron was unaware of his friends' reactions. He was too engrossed reading the headline news.

"It also says here, Harry Potter made the muggle boys vomit slugs. Hmmm... Why didn't I think of that? I bet Malfoy will think twice, before he insults me again." For a moment, there was a dreamy look on Ron's face.

"Give me that!" Ginny irately pulled the Daily Prophet from Ron's hands.

"Ginny! That's my newspaper!" Ron grumblingly protested.

"You read like a ten-year old." Ginny turned her back on her youngest brother, and continued to read aloud. Without even looking, she found her way back to her own chair. "The torment only stopped when Ministry Aurors arrived at the scene. Potter managed to evade arrest. This reporter likes to know if the Ministry will do something about Potter's atrocious behavior. This reporter can only hope. And so, knowing what occurred at Little Whingam, I ask you again, my dear readers, "Is Harry Potter really a hero? Or, is he a bully?" The true answer lies with you. This is your Daily Prophet reporter..." Ginny crossly threw away the newspaper.

"First you stole my newspaper, now you threw it away." Ron irately picked up the scattered pages of the Daily Prophet.

"You shouldn't read that rubbish, Ron! It'll rot your brain." Ginny furiously turned to her friends. "That story is obviously a lie! Harry wouldn't do that! That hag, Rita Skeeter, fabricated that story! I just know it!" The redheaded girl angrily hit the table with her tightly balled fist.

"Interesting news?" Remus innocently asked. He just walked in, and heard Ginny's last loud complaint. For a moment, he curiously looked at the people before him. His question was met with uneasy silence. He, then, suspiciously looked at the newspaper Ron was unobtrusively trying to hide behind his back. "I'll take that, Ron." With a swift flick of his wand, the pages flew toward Remus, rearranged neatly, before landing in his hand. "Now, let's see what all the fuss is about." Remus just read the headline, and already, he was frowning heatedly. Sirius had warned him about this kind of story. But, he never thought it would look that bad.

( ( o ) )

Back again at Hogwarts, Dumbledore was busy talking to Scrimgeour. He was kneeling in front of his office fireplace, gazing intently into the flame. Ordinary witches and wizards would have stuck their heads into the fire. But, Dumbledore found an easier and more dignified way to firecall.

"Are you sure, minister?" Dumbledore asked dubiously.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure," Scrimgeour answered impatiently. "I have the Head of Auror Division here to confirm it. Potter didn't do any of those things reported in the Daily Prophet." For a moment, the minister looked uncomfortable. "Well…except for that bit of transfiguration, which, I'm sure, was unintentional."

Dumbledore secretly sighed with relief. "May I ask why I wasn't informed of this incident beforehand?" He spoke as kindly as he possibly could. He didn't want to give the impression, that he was accusing the minister of incompetence.

Minister Scrimgeous scowled irately. "I'm not your secretary, Dumbledore. Unlike you, I don't have Potter in my pocket."

Dumbledore realized his question was merely annoying the minister. So, he changed tack. "What are you going to do with Ms. Skeeter and her libelous report? Can you ask them to retract the story on Mr. Potter?" He couldn't deny to Scrimgeour, Harry Potter didn't bully anyone. There was no Harry Potter. The-Boy-Who-Lived died years ago. But, he was concerned with the image he built around Harry Potter. The thought of the heroic Chosen One's triumph against Lord Voldemort gave wizarding folks hope.

"I can only issue a letter of reprimand to Ms. Skeeter and the Daily Prophet. The muggle boys and every one of the witnesses were already obliviated. Who's to say Potter didn't do all those reprehensible deeds. It'll be Ms. Skeeter's words against my Aurors." The headmaster knew the minister could do more than just issue a letter. Scrimgeour could order the Daily Prophet to retract the story, and print a correction. It would solve the problem. But, for the moment, he was satisfied with knowing the truth. "Now, tell me, Dumbledore… What was Potter doing in Little Whinging? And, why was he unescorted?" The headmaster could detect a suspicious note in Scrimgeour's voice.

"To tell you the truth, minister, I don't know," Dumbledore answered guardedly, his solemn expression giving credence to his claim.

"You don't know?" Scrimgeour asked in annoyance. "Aren't you the one hiding him? Surely, you plan his every trip?" The flame grew and turned bright red. Unknown to anyone, Dumbledore applied the muggle mood ring idea to his fireplace. The flame changed color, to reflect the emotions of the person, on the other end of the floo connection.

Dumbledore sighed theatrically. "Alas, minister, Harry is not my prisoner. There are no bars on his bedroom door or windows. He can do whatever he pleases…to a certain point, of course."

"You give him too much liberty," Scrimgeour complained irately. "Does he know You-Know-Who is searching for him?"

"He knows, minister." Dumbledore noticed their conversation was heading toward a dangerous topic. "I will also inform him to wait for Ministry guards, before going anywhere. Good day, minister." He immediately cut off the floo connection, before Scrimgeour could ask more questions.

Deep in thought, Dumbledore slowly walked back to his office chair, and wearily sat down. For a while, he unseeingly gazed at the beautiful day outside his window. He knew he could never stop anyone from impersonating Harry. But, every wrong deed done by those impersonators, reflected badly on Harry's image. He had carefully crafted Harry's persona over the years. He couldn't let an impostor, or a two-bit reporter just tarnished it on a whim or spite. He had to do something.

He opened his table's middle drawer, and reached for his calendar book. Looking at his schedule, he saw he didn't have anything planned on the thirty first of July. He smiled with satisfaction, as he put away his calendar. He lightly walked over to his fireplace, and threw floo powder into the dying ember. Harry's birthday was coming up. It was the perfect time to formally introduce The-Boy-Who-Lived to the wizarding world. He would need more acting from his Harry Potter impersonator, though. He only hoped it wouldn't complicate his plan too much.

"Number twelve Grimmauld Place." Dumbledore disappeared in a burst of wild, green flame.

( ( o ) )

There was a worried look on Sirius' face, as he went down the stairs of his house at Grimmauld Place. By the end of the month, it would be Harry's birthday. And, he just read a disturbing story about Harry, from the Daily Prophet. Knowing it was written by Rita Skeeter made it no less disturbing. He silently cursed Dumbledore. If the headmaster would only let his godson stay with him, no incident like that would have happened.

When he opened the door to his kitchen, he was surprised to see Dumbledore. He wasn't alone. Remus, Shacklebolt, Mad Eye, Mrs. Weasley, and the six Hogwarts students were with him. From the excited expressions of Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Ron, and Susan, something was going on.

"Ah, Sirius just the wizard I want to see," Dumbledore greeted amiably. He was sitting at the head of the table. "Please, sit down. I have news that you will be, most likely, pleased to hear."

Sirius perplexedly sat down. He sat on a chair opposite Dumbledore. Mrs. Weasley and the girls were seated on the left side of the headmaster. Remus, Mad Eye, Shacklebolt, and the boys sat on the right side. He quizzically looked at the others, before giving the headmaster his full attention.

"What is this all about, professor?" Sirius asked coolly.

Dumbledore gave him a grandfatherly smile. His eyes twinkled with excitement. "As you know, the thirty-first of July will be Mr. Potter's sixteenth birthday. I have discussed this idea with Mr. Potter. And, he agreed to celebrate his birthday here at your house, Sirius."

It was hard to tell, who was more shocked, Sirius or Remus. Ron slowly waved his hand in front of Remus' face. And, he was scolded by his mother for his effort.

"Is this some kind of a joke, professor? If it is, it's not very funny," Sirius snapped at Dumbledore. He was tired of the headmaster, always dangling the carrot in front of his face. Remus looked at Sirius in shock.

The headmaster was inwardly surprised at Sirius' belligerent attitude. He was hoping this news would soften the marauder's disposition. It seemed he would have to proceed cautiously, if he wanted his plan to succeed.

"I assure you. There is no joking involved," Dumbledore answered lightly. "I merely think that, perhaps, it is time for Mr. Potter to meet his parents' friends."

Sirius gave the headmaster a measuring look. "Why do it now? I have asked you so many times in the past, but you've always refused. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Sirius, isn't this, what you've always wanted? Celebrate Harry's birthday here, in your house?" Remus asked, confused.

"Yes, but I want to hear his reason." Sirius' face was cast in stone, as he looked at Dumbledore. He could barely contain his annoyance from showing. "Well headmaster, I'm waiting."

Dumbledore sighed sadly. He had to explain this very carefully. "First of all, I would like to apologize to you and Remus. It is not my intention to hurt your feelings. Mr. Potter was vulnerable. And, I took the most secure option open to me at the time. It may have cut his contact with you, and other magical beings. But, Mr. Potter lives without the constant threat of Death Eaters. It is only now, that I see he has to be with magical people his own age. So, I asked him, if he would like to meet his godfather, and a few Hogwarts students. He agreed. And, what better way to meet you and the others than at his birthday?" Suddenly, the headmaster's sad eyes turned regretful. "Can you forgive this old man's shortsightedness?" All eyes turned to Sirius. No one spoke.

Sirius carefully considered Dumbledore's explanation. It was the same argument from the previous years. But this time, it seemed the headmaster had relented. "Why didn't you do anything about the story written on Harry?" Sirius asked accusingly instead. Dumbledore's face remained neutral. "I left Professor McGonagall a note, warning you about it."

The look of regret never left Dumbledore's face. "I apologize, Sirius," he replied softly. "By the time I read your letter, the Daily Prophet already distributed copies of their newspapers. I asked the help of Minister Scrimgeour, but he couldn't do anything either." Then, Dumbledore smiled slightly. "However, the minister himself informed me, the story, written about Mr. Potter, was all a lie." The headmaster's information was met with approval, and collective sighs of relief.

Sirius met Dumbledore's eyes with disapproval. He knew the headmaster could have done something. Dumbledore could have made Skeeter retract her story, and issue an apology. But, he would discuss that with the headmaster another time. For the moment, he was satisfied with knowing the truth.

"When will Harry be here?" Sirius asked evenly.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with pleasure. It seemed he pacified Sirius, for now. "Mr. Potter will be here before lunch on the thirty-first of July. You have plenty of time to prepare for a surprise party."

The girls led by Mrs. Weasley broke into a frenzy of planning. Ron mumbled "girls" loud enough to be heard by the others, which elicited laughter. Sirius, however, remained quiet and unenthusiastic.

( ( o ) )

The joke shop was still closed, when Harry walked in. And, it wouldn't open, until nine o'clock. Harry walked behind the counter, opposite the door and show window. There was no sign of the Weasley twins. He thought, they were either picking up supplies from the basement, or still eating their breakfast. He saw a newspaper, lying on top of the counter. After a quick look at the date, he picked it up, and began reading.

Harry irately scowled, as he read the headline story of the Daily Prophet. He couldn't understand why this newspaper printed such obvious lies about him. But, he admitted to himself, that part, about transfiguring Dudley, wasn't a lie. Then, he remembered something. He never did get to act on his promise, to prank Rita Skeeter.

"Judging from that evil grin of yours, I think your plotting someone's death and destruction," George observed with amusement, as he walked behind Harry. He carefully put down the pail he was carrying, on the glass counter.

"Who? Me?" Harry asked in surprise. There was a look of complete innocence on his face.

"Oh, you're good," Fred said admiringly. "Almost as good as we are." He walked over to the fake wand box, and refilled it.

"What got your knickers in a twist, anyway?" George asked quizzically.

"This Rita Skeeter…" Harry scowled again. He crossly slapped the front page with the back of his right hand. "She pisses me off."

Fred stood near Harry, and looked at the story he was reading. "I didn't know you're a big fan of Harry Potter," he said jokingly. Harry scowled at him next. "Oh, my mistake… I didn't see that scar of yours."

"Let me see that." Exasperated, Harry handed the newspaper to George. For a moment, the other Weasley boy quickly read the headline. "Don't take it personally, Harry. She's not attacking you."

Harry inwardly sighed. Rita Skeeter was actually attacking him. But, the twins didn't know that. "I guess you're right. It just that… How can a newspaper print something like that, without getting all the facts? Aren't they afraid of getting sued?"

"Probably not." Fred said unconcernedly. He went to the door, and flipped the _Closed_ sign to _Open_. "I mean, there must be a tiny bit of truth to her story. Otherwise, a lot of her expose victims would have taken her to court."

"Oy, enough of Skeeter." George dumped a pail of colorful, wriggling Flobberworm Gummies, in a basket near the cash machine. "We got a business to run."

For the next hours, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was busy. Little children and teenagers were going around the shop picking up free samples. It was one of the twins' bright ideas. They gave free samples of their introductory products. And, once they received positive reviews, they put a reasonable price on each new joke item.

Later in the day, Neville, Ron, and Ginny walked in, and were surprised to see a big difference. In just a few short weeks, the Weasley twins had filled their joke shop, with various prank products to rival Zonko's. There were Hogwarts' all time favorites, like Skiving Snackboxes, Canary Creams, Basic Blaze Boxes, and others. There were new ones too, like Reusable Hangman, U-No-Poo, quills, and Fake Wands.

They were studying the latest sensation U-No-Poo, when a clerk in purple cloak approached them. He got a black, messy hair, and wearing wire-rimmed eyeglasses. "Good afternoon. How may I help you?"

Neville pleasantly smiled. He didn't know the twins were earning enough gold to hire someone. "We're not here to buy anything. We only want to talk to Fred and George. These are their brother, Ron, and sister, Ginny. I'm Neville Longbottom, by the way." The clerk shook Neville's hand, as well as, Ron's and Ginny's.

The clerk mischievously smiled at them. "I'll tell them you're here. If you'll excuse me…" They saw the clerk tapped one of the twins on the shoulder, and pointed them out. Fred or it could be George waved at them.

"Did any of you notice the scar on that bloke's forehead?" Neville asked casually. He saw the twin introduced the clerk to a young woman.

"N-No," Ron answered nervously. He just realized he was standing close to a basketful of fake spiders. They were so lifelike.

"Must be Fred and George's bright idea," Ginny said, interestedly observing the clerk genially entertain his customer. "Remember, they got in trouble with the Ministry, for causing mischief with their Harry Potter look-alike?"

The twin was all smiles, as he walked over to them. "Neville, Ron, Ginny… What brings you to our happy place?" the twin asked good-naturedly.

"George!" Ron greeted excitedly, momentarily forgetting about the spiders. "Neville wants to invite you and Fred to his birthday party. It's going to be tomorrow."

"Oh?" the twin looked at Neville with a pleasant surprise. "Thanks, Neville. We love to come. And, the name's Gred," he said mischievously. Neville gave him their invitations, humorously smiling at the twin's attempt to confuse them. "I'm Gred, really."

"Don't forget your gifts," Ginny impishly reminded him. Neville felt nervous, when he heard this.

Fred saw Neville's nervous smile. "Don't worry mate. We won't prank you on your birthday. It's the least we can do for inviting us." Fred beamed jokingly at Neville. Then, his face turned a little serious. "Listen, Neville. Would you also invite a friend of ours?"

"Who?" Neville asked suspiciously. It wasn't that he didn't trust the twins. But, it was a dangerous time. He couldn't just invite anyone into his home.

"Don't worry mate. He is above suspicion. We, meaning George and I, trust him completely," Fred stated convincingly.

"Who is he?" Neville asked again. But this time, he was curious. It was a rare honor to be trusted by the twins.

"He's over there." Fred pointed the clerk, who greeted them earlier. "His name's Harry."

"Harry Potter?" Ron asked incredulously. Ginny cuffed him soundly in the head. Ron glared at his sister, who glared back at him.

"No." Fred chuckled with amusement. "Evans... His name is Harry Evans. His parents named him after The-Boy-Who-Lived."

Neville observed Harry for a moment. He got the impression the clerk was a likeable fellow. "I'll send his invitation by owl."

"Thanks, Neville." Fred smiled appreciatively. "And, thank you, again, for inviting us." He escorted Neville and his siblings out of the shop. Unknown to Ron, Fred stuffed his cloak pocket with a fistful of spiders.


	9. Chosen Ones

_Disclaimer: Characters of the Harry Potter saga are owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is written as a fan fiction. No right infringement is intended. Any similarity to other Harry Potter fan fictions is purely coincidental._

Summary: AU. Albus Dumbledore keeps a secret that may be the very downfall of the wizarding world. Will Voldemort learn of this secret which Dumbledore values more than the prophecy? Or will someone find out what it is?

--

Chapter 9: Chosen Ones

Although the planned birthday party for Harry Potter would be for the next day, number twelve Grimmauld Place was already cleaned, and decorated. A big, birthday banner was already hanging, in the enlarged sitting room. Balloons were tied everywhere. A lot of gifts, from well-wishers, were already heaped in one corner.

"Sirius, hurry up! We're going to be late!" Remus shouted from outside Sirius' bedroom. He had been waiting for over ten minutes. He was beginning to wonder, what his friend was doing. The door was suddenly yanked opened. Without greeting his friend, Sirius went straight toward the staircase, hurriedly combing his hair. Remus, with a sigh, followed at a sedate pace. When he reached the ground floor, he gave the impatient-looking Sirius a conspiratorial smile. "Are you giving the gift we bought from the twins?"

"Yes," Sirius answered, grinning widely. "I'm sure Neville won't mind, once he sees his real gift."

"Come on. We don't want to be late." Remus and Sirius headed to the fireplace, and flooed to Longbottom Manor.

Once they exited the fireplace, they noticed a great number of people, milling around. It seemed they arrived on time. They saw several familiar faces. They saw Tonks waving at them, from one side of the main hall. They decided to join her group.

Tonks introduced them to her friends. "You, two, sure like to be fashionably late," she said teasingly. A house-elf approached, and offered them drinks. Tonks and the others were sipping pineapple punch.

"What can I say? Remus and I are on a class of our own," Sirius jokingly replied. "So, where is the birthday boy? We come bearing gift."

"Oh, he's probably off somewhere with his friends," Tonks replied unconcernedly. "You can put your gift on a table in the sitting room. You can't miss it. There's a mountain of gifts in there." She uninterestedly pointed at the door on her right.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have a gift to offer." Sirius handed his drink to Remus, before proceeding to the sitting room. He opened the door Tonks carelessly pointed, but it wasn't a sitting room. It was a study room. He was about to close the door, when a voice suddenly addressed him.

"Can I help you?" Sirius directed his eyes to the source of the voice. He saw a teenage boy, standing near a bookshelf, on the left side of the room. He was partially obscured by shadow. That's why he didn't notice him, when he first entered the room. He closed the door behind him. For some unknown reason, he walked closer to the boy. Sirius closely studied his face. The teenager looked familiar with his messy black hair, his wire-rimmed glasses, his brown…no…green eyes.

Sirius eyes grew round, his heart skipped a beat. "Harry? Is it really you?" he whispered disbelievingly. Without waiting for an answer, he closed the gap between them, and tightly hugged the boy. A feeling of joy filled his heart, his eyes moistened with unshed tears of happiness. After a few moments, he stepped back, but didn't remove his hands on the boy's shoulders. "I thought I'll never see you again, Harry. I have been looking for you for fifteen years. Dumbledore won't tell me, where you are. I…" The door suddenly opened, and a head appeared.

"Sirius, are you in here?" It was Remus. He was curiously looking around him, when he spotted them. "Sirius, there you are. The party is about to start…"

"Remus, come here," Sirius happily called out. "I found Harry." Remus, with a puzzled expression on his face, joined Sirius and a teenage boy. "Remus, I want you to meet Harry."

Remus gave Sirius a wondering look. "Sirius, I already saw Harry. He is not Harry. He doesn't even remotely resemble Harry."

Now, Sirius was the one confuse. "What do you mean? Remus, look at him. He's the spitting image of James. And, he has Lily's eyes."

Remus closely studied the boy's face. He could tell the boy felt uncomfortable. As much as he hated to admit it, the boy did resemble James. And, his eyes…They were Lily's eyes. "I admit he looks a little bit like James. But, I'm telling you, he is not Harry," Remus firmly declared.

Sirius frowned at his friend. Then, he turned to the boy. "I know you are Harry Potter, my godson. I can feel it. Will you tell my friend here, that he's wrong and I'm right?"

The boy uncertainly looked from Sirius to Remus, and then, back again. "I'm sorry. My name is Harry Evans," the boy said apologetically.

Remus felt pity for his friend. He wanted to find Harry so much. He was willing to accept anyone, who slightly resembled their dead friends. He saw Sirius' face turned from shock to anger. "I don't believe you. You're lying! Why are you lying? Did Dumbledore tell you to lie? Harry, you don't have to be afraid. I will protect you."

Remus saw the boy's face was expressionless, but his eyes were full of questions. He wouldn't be surprised, if the boy thought Sirius was some kind of a lunatic. He grabbed a hold of his friend's arm, and pulled him toward the door. "We're sorry for bothering you. My friend here is a little tired. Please, enjoy the party."

When they were standing outside the study room, Sirius seemed to awaken from his shock. He pulled his arm free, and was about to enter the room again. But, Remus hastily blocked his path, and firmly gripped his shoulders. "Sirius, No! That boy is not Harry."

"And, I'm telling you, he is." Sirius tried to get past Remus. He also grabbed a hold of Remus' shoulders, and tried to push him out of his way.

"There you are." A feminine voice interrupted their little wrestling match. They both turned around, and saw Tonks watching them with a puzzled expression. "The party is about to start. And, guess what? Harry Potter is Neville's main guest of honor. They're in the main hall right now." Sirius and Remus briefly looked at each other in surprise. Then, as one, they rapidly walked to the main hall, with Tonks following close behind.

( ( o ) )

The main hall was crowded. Everyone seemed intent to squeeze themselves a little closer, to the middle of the room. Being tall, Sirius had no problem, seeing over everyone's head. He saw Neville, his parents and grandmother, his Hogwarts friends, Professor Dumbledore, and a tall, athletic-looking teenager.

Sirius moved closer to get a better look. Some wizards and witches didn't like being pushed and shoved, but he didn't care. He was intent on getting a little closer. Unfortunately for him, he reached as far as he could go, without stepping on anyone's toe. But, it was enough to study Harry's face. It didn't take him long to decide. He knew deep inside, that the boy standing beside Dumbledore wasn't Harry. It was a patsy. The real Harry was in the study room.

Sirius turned around, and went back the way he came. As usual, some of the witches and wizards protested, as he walked through them. Remus, seeing Sirius headed toward the study room, followed. When Sirius entered the study room, it was empty.

"Sirius, what's wrong?" Remus asked with concern from the doorway.

Sirius laughed a bitter laugh. "I was right, and you were wrong." With a sense of loss, he turned around, and faced his friend. "That Harry, the one with Dumbledore, is not the real Harry. He's a fake."

Remus stared dubiously at his friend. "How do you know? How sure are you that the Harry with Dumbledore is a fake?" he asked patiently.

Sirius sadly dropped his gaze, and shook his head. "I can't really explain it. It was just a feeling I got, when I looked at him."

Remus considered his friend's statement. As much as he wanted to dissuade Sirius from his feeling, he didn't see any reason not to believe him. "Well, if you feel the boy who was in here, a while ago, is the real Harry, we can just visit him at the twins' joke shop."

Sirius slowly raised his head. He had a confuse look on his face. "Wait a minute… Why will Harry be in the twins' joke shop?"

Remus' lips slowly broke into a lopsided smile. "I saw him there. I didn't actually meet him. Fred just told me, he's their version of Harry Potter." The werewolf marauder chuckled. "If he's really your godson, those Weasley boys don't know they hired the real Harry Potter." Remus saw Sirius smiled amusedly. "We just have to make sure we befriend him first. If we scare him, he might run away."

Sirius grinned excitedly, as he nodded his head. "And, when the right time comes, I know the best way to prove, that he is the real Harry Potter."

( ( o ) )

On the night of July 31st, at number twelve Grimmauld Place, everyone and everything was ready and waiting for the birthday celebrant. The house was full of Order members, and a few select DA students. Here and there, witches and wizards excitedly talked about finally meeting The-Boy-Who-Lived. At first, they were disappointed. Harry Potter didn't arrive as planned. But, it soon turned to excitement, especially for the witches, when it was announced there would be dancing. And, Harry Potter would pick his dance partner, randomly.

Up in his room, Sirius was rapidly boring a hole on his carpet. He couldn't sit still. He was nervous, and at the same time excited. Remus and Tonks watched him with amusement. Tonks was apprised of the situation that morning. So, she had some idea of what would happen.

"Sirius, will you calm down," Remus said, amused at his friend. "Harry will be here soon. I specifically asked Fred and George to drag him here, if he refused."

Sirius suddenly stopped, and looked with horror at Remus. "You didn't? Remus, we agreed to let him get to know us first, at his own pace." He saw Tonks and Remus broke into gales of laughter.

"Sirius, you should have seen your face. That was priceless." Remus and Tonks continued laughing, while Sirius exasperatedly glared at them.

"Ha, Ha, Ha… You think that's funny, don't you?" Sirius started pacing again. He couldn't help cracking his knuckles too, while he paced the floor. Once in a while, he would pat his cloak, to feel a small object in his hip pocket.

"By the way, is our gift to 'Harry' ready?" Sirius raised his hands, and signaled quotation marks in the air, as he said the other Harry's name. Remus turned to Tonks, who gave them a puzzled look. Sirius looked expectantly from Remus to Tonks. "Well?"

Tonks continued to look oblivious. Remus finally glared at her. "The gift? Oh, the gift for 'Harry'… got you." She mischievously winked at both men. "Yes, it's ready. It will be the main gift opening of the night." Sirius, Remus, and Tonks smiled conspiratorially. All of them clearly remembered Neville's birthday party the night before…

_It was interesting, to say the least. Neville excitedly opened their gift first. He wanted to see, what his training instructors gavehim. As was advertised, small balloons, fireworks, confetti, and party hats flew out. The box unraveled, and completely exposed the chocolate cake, with lit sixteen candles. Fred and George's voices were heard singing an out-of-tune birthday song. Everyone was shouting, clapping, and cheering. Everyone was practically having a very good time._

_What happened next was totally unexpected. As soon as Neville blew out the candles, the chocolate cake exploded…candles and all. It completely covered Neville's face, and splattered his expensive dress robe. All the laughter and cheering suddenly stopped. Nobody moved. Nobody even made a sound. Everyone held their breath in complete shock._

_Neville delicately removed gobs of chocolate from his eye. Then, very slowly, he opened his eyes. For a moment, he looked in surprise at his party guests. Suddenly, a couple of snorts broke the eerie silence. This turned into a full blown laughter of the Weasley twins. They were bent over clutching their stomach, as they laughed. They were laughing so hard, tears were streaming down their cheeks._

"_Fred, George, how could you?" Mrs. Weasley yelled at them in a scandalized voice. She barreled her way to their side, and angrily pinched their ears._

"_Ow, Ow, Ow… Mum, it wasn't us… Let go… That hurts," the twins protested in pain. They tried unsuccessfully to pry their mum's fingers from their pain-red ears._

_Everyone just watched the odd scene. Nobody seemed to know how to react. Neville, on the other hand, found the situation funny, and laughed heartily. This broke the tense atmosphere. And, everyone laughed with the birthday celebrant..._

Sounds of knocking brought them out of their own reveries. Sirius giddily opened the door, and found Ron standing outside his bedroom. "I hate to disturb you, but Professor Dumbledore and Harry Potter have arrived."

"Thanks, Ron. We'll be down in a minute." Sirius gently closed the door, and turned to his friends. "Well, it's show time. May the Mistress of Mischief grant us her blessings..."

"…And laugh upon our misdeeds." Remus intoned dramatically. It was the marauder's battle cry, so to speak.

They went downstairs, and found everyone in the enlarge sitting room. Dumbledore saw them, and cheerfully beckoned them to come to the front. The headmaster was smiling widely. His blue eyes were twinkling brightly.

"Sirius, Remus, I would like you to meet Harry Potter," the headmaster grandly said, as an introduction.

Sirius and Remus politely shook _Harry_'s hand in turn. This _Harry_ was roughly the same height as James. He possessed the general facial features of both Lily and James. His eyes were green, but not the same shade of color as Lily's.

"After so many years, I finally meet you," Sirius said with a friendly smile. "Did Professor Dumbledore mention I'm your godfather?"

_Harry_ smiled cordially. "Yes, he did. I love to have met you sooner, but Professor Dumbledore is worried about my security. I'm glad we get the chance to meet now." Sirius just nodded noncommittally.

"Oh, before I forget, I like to show you something." Sirius brought out a small crimson box, and showed James' signet ring. "This belonged to you father. He gave it to me, before they went into hiding."

_Harry_ reached for the ring. But, when he touched it, a shock went through his fingers. He swiftly pulled back his hand, and tried to shake off the pain. For a moment, anger flitted across his face, before it quickly vanished.

"It shocked me!" _Harry_ exclaimed in disgust.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Sirius hastily apologized. "It does that to everyone." His voice deceptively conveyed his concern. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was slightly suspicious.

"Harry, we have a birthday to celebrate. Why don't we start the party, so that you and Sirius can have a private talk afterward?" Remus interrupted cheerfully. "My only request is you open our gift first." He saw Sirius pressed his lips together so he wouldn't laugh.

"I will, Remus," _Harry_ said charmingly. He turned to his guests, and addressed them. "Thank you all for coming. I was very excited when Professor Dumbledore told me I would celebrate my birthday here. Looking at all the decorations, it must have taken a lot of effort to prepare all these. Thank you very much."

_Harry_'s speech was greeted with loud applause and cheering. A large table, carrying a very large cake with sixteen candles, floated inside the room. The cheering and clapping grew louder. Soon, the room reverberated with the singing of a birthday song. When the song was finished, the crowd grew quiet, until _Harry_ blew out the candles. Then, the room exploded again with loud clapping and cheering.

The first birthday gift _Harry_ opened was from Sirius and Remus. Like what happened at Neville's birthday party, the chocolate cake exploded. The Weasley twins laughed uproariously. Mrs. Weasley yelled at the top of her lungs. And, everyone broke down laughing.

( ( o ) )

The hilarious scene was never witnessed by the two marauders. They were busy looking for Harry Evans, hired hand of the Weasley twins. They found him in Sirius bedroom, looking intently at the moving photograph of James and Lily on their wedding day.

"There you are," Sirius said aloud. He was sorry as soon as he spoke. He saw Harry jumped in alarm, and very nearly dropped the photograph. "What are you doing in my room? The birthday party is downstairs. Never mind, it's boring anyway."

Harry looked at him in surprise. "Isn't he your godson?"

"How did you know he's my godson?" Sirius inquired curiously. He didn't wait for an answer. He stood beside Harry, and looked at the photograph. "It was the happiest day of James and Lily's lives…" Sirius paused, as if remembering something. "No. The happiest day of their lives was when their son was born."

"What happened to them?" Harry asked him somberly.

"They were killed by Voldemort." Sirius noticed Harry didn't flinched. He smiled inwardly. He was brave like his parents. "James left me this for safekeeping." Again, he brought out the small box containing the signet ring, and opened it. He noticed the intense gaze, Harry was giving the ring. "Here…" Sirius proffered the box to Harry. "Take the ring out, if you want to closely study its facet." He saw the boy slowly reached for the ring in fascination. But, at the last moment, Harry changed his mind, and withdrew his right hand. The boy just contentedly looked at the signet ring. Sirius felt greatly disappointed. "You _can_ take the ring out of the box, if you like. I won't mind at all."

Again, he saw Harry slowly reached out. Sirius unconsciously held his breath in anticipation. But, instead of picking up the ring, he reached for the lid, and closed it with a faint click. "Thank you for offering me to hold it. But, I can't really. That right belongs to Harry Potter," Harry said with a very faint hint of emotion. "The ring…it looks very nice."

Sirius surreptitiously glanced at Remus, who was standing behind Harry's left side. He didn't get the proof he needed. But, he strongly believed, more than ever, that this boy was really Harry Potter, his lost godson. He would just have to find another way to prove it. "I understand." Sirius momentarily examined the ring himself. "The ring does look nice, doesn't it? I promised James I will give this to his son, once he reaches his age of majority." Sirius regretfully slid the small box to his pocket. Unsure of what to say to each other next, he and Harry briefly lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

"Hey, why don't we all go downstairs, and eat? I don't know about you, two, but I'm starving," Remus said cheerfully, a little bit too cheerful. "With these many people, I won't be surprised, if we run out of food."

"What do you say, Harry?" Sirius asked brightly. "You feel hungry?" Harry's stomach growled. "I take that as a yes. Come on. Ron may be just a teenager, but he's got a stomach deeper than Eldon Hole." Sirius led the walk down to the kitchen.

( ( o ) )

Except for a few Order members, six Hogwarts students, and the fake Harry Potter, all the guests left. The two marauders found time for a relaxing tea. Sitting quietly in Sirius' study room, both men were in deep thought.

"So, what happened to letting him get to know us first?" Remus asked teasingly. Sirius just carelessly shrugged his shoulder, and turned his attention to the flickering flames in the fireplace. "What are you going to do now, to prove Harry Evans is really your godson?"

The dancing light of the flames reflected on Sirius' face. His sad blue eyes seemed to be looking at some distant memories. "I don't really know," he uncertainly replied, after a moment of silence. "It's funny. I have been searching for him for a long time. Now that I've found him, I don't know what to do. If he will only admit he's Harry Potter, everything will be alright." Sirius musingly shook his head. "I mean it's so obvious with that last name of his. Evans is his mother's maiden name."

Remus slowly nodded, understanding his friend's feelings. "What about Professor Dumbledore?" he asked, looking at Sirius over the rim of his cup, as he took a sip.

"What about him?" Sirius asked quizzically, as he turned his eyes towards Remus.

"He obviously lied to us. He doesn't know where Harry is, either. He hid Harry from us, when he was a baby. But, somehow, through the intervening years, he too lost Harry. He didn't even recognize Harry, when he briefly talked to him. And, to cover his mistake, he was trying to pass off this impostor, as the real Harry Potter." Remus was breathing hard, when he was done enumerating his observations. Anger blazed within his yellowish eyes.

"We will leave Professor Dumbledore for now. We can't do anything about it anyway," Sirius said evenly. "What we shall do…"

Remus suddenly signaled Sirius to stop talking. He slowly stood up, and quietly walked to the door. He carefully listened for a second, before quickly turning the doorknob, and yanking the door open. Neville, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Susan, and Luna tumbled to the floor on top of each other.

"It's not what you think," Hermione said immediately, as she hastily scrambled off the floor. "We… ah…"

"…Dropped some galleons, and we are trying to find them. Some of them rolled near the door," Ron quickly added. The others glared at him for his pathetic excuse. Ron just apologetically shrugged his shoulders.

Remus sternly looked at them. "You may as well come in." The six students hesitantly walked inside the study room. Remus firmly closed the door. He cast both Locking and Privacy Charms at the door. It was an oversight he didn't intend to repeat. "Find yourself a seat." The six snoopers picked extra chairs, footrests. In Ron's case, he just sat on the floor.

"So, how much did you hear?" Sirius curiously asked. He watched them uncomfortably squirmed, and glanced at each other.

"Well, we heard that you suspect Harry Evans is really Harry Potter." Hermione contritely dropped her eyes to her hands. She was obviously embarrassed.

"I can't believe it. I've been talking to Harry Potter, and didn't even know it." Ron looked in awe.

Ginny soundly cuffed him in the head. "Didn't you hear what Hermione said? Auror Black suspects… suspects. Now be quiet. And, this time, just listen." She determinedly ignored the angry blustering of her brother.

Sirius chuckled with amusement. For a moment, he thought of a way to explain to his students, the gravity of the situation. Even if they promised not to breathe a word they heard, Dumbledore could just pull the information out of their minds. "Now then, I want you all to promise me not to tell anyone, and I mean anyone, anything you hear in here. The knowledge you possess is a danger to yourself, as well as to Harry. If Voldemort ever finds out, well, I don't have to tell you what will happen."

The six students blanched. "Well, do I have your promise?" Sirius waited expectantly to hear them promise. He wasn't disappointed. "Good. Starting tomorrow, we will add Occlumency to your training."

Hermione was excited. The others were confused. "Hermione, would you please explain Occlumency to the others?" Sirius requested with a smile.

"Ahem… Occlumency is a magical way to defend the mind against outside mental intrusion or influence. It is a defensive counter against Legilimency, which required direct eye contact to successfully perform," Hermione recited proudly.

When she was finished, the others were looking at her, as if she had grown six heads. "Thank you, Hermione. I advise you to study Occlumency, as if your life depends on it." Sirius seriously looked at each student. "Since you haven't learned anything yet, I don't want you to look Snape or Professor Dumbledore, straight in the eye."

Hermione gasped, horrified. Her reaction caught the attention of her classmates. They confusedly saw her face turned from horror-struck to rage. "How dare they?!"

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ginny asked with concern. She never saw Hermione this angry, except when she was arguing with Ron.

Hermione looked at them with anger burning in her brown eyes. "Remember how we talked about Snape or Professor Dumbledore seemed to be looking inside our heads? Well, they were doing just that. They were looking inside our heads using Occlumency."

"WHAT?" the other students shouted in unison.

Neville began thinking of situations, where Dumbledore or Snape were probing their minds. "That's probably how they know things, before we even tell them."

"So, all this time, they really knew we were lying, or telling the truth?" Susan was surprised at the revelation.

Sirius and Remus let the six students assimilate, what they had learned about Snape and Professor Dumbledore. In order to protect Harry, Sirius had no choice, but to open their eyes to the danger within the Order of the Phoenix itself.

"One more thing…" The six students turned their eyes to Sirius. "…Don't bother Harry Evans with questions, concerning his true identity. He might leave, if someone is getting too nosy about his personal life. Do we agree on that?" The students answered affirmatively. "If you find out something, just tell it to me or Remus or Tonks. Now, since 'Harry Potter' will be staying here till school starts, be careful what you say around him. He is Professor Dumbledore's pet."

"Auror Black, how did you know he is a fake? You said it yourself. You haven't seen him for fifteen years," Hermione inquired curiously.

Sirius brought out the box, and showed the signet ring to the students. He gave the box to Hermione, who passed it to Neville, and so on, until it reached Ron, who decided to touch the ring. He yelled painfully.

"Unless you are a Potter, it won't let you touch it. The Harry Potter, who Professor Dumbledore brought here today, received a shock, when he touched that ring." Sirius took the box from Ron, and slid it inside his pocketed. "Lily Potter, Harry's mum, couldn't touch it either."

"Well, maybe it was Professor Dumbledore's intention to bring a fake Harry, as a security precaution. After all, You-Know-Who's spies are everywhere." Hermione couldn't altogether accept that in a few short minutes, the wizard she admired so much might have feet of clay.

"Oh come on, Hermione. Death Eater spy here in the headquarters?" Ron asked dubiously, his ire clearly showing in his face. "The only spy here is Snape, and he's on our side. You said so yourself."

Hermione still remained doubtful. "Auror Black, did Mr. Potter, Harry's father, specifically say only a Potter can touch that ring?"

"Yes," Sirius answered with a puzzled look on his face. "What are you trying to say, Hermione?"

"You said, Lily Potter, couldn't touch that ring?" Hermione looked questioningly at Sirius. She received a nod as confirmation. "She was magically married to James Potter?" Again, she received a nod. "Well, I find it hard to believe, she couldn't touch that ring, because in essence, she was a Potter. A magical marriage, which basically binds a witch and a wizard's magic making them as one, grants her access to all Potter properties." There was a look of concentration on her face, as if she was trying to remember something. "The officiating wizard, in magical marriages, always says… _Let no earthly material or want, divide your magic in two…_ as the couple joins their blood by holding each other's bleeding hands." She looked expectantly at Sirius. "Mrs. Potter couldn't touch that ring, if it was enchanted for Mr. Potter's use only."

"It could have been enchanted to include Harry also," Neville speculatively commented.

"Is that the usual practice of pureblood families?" Hermione interestedly asked her friend.

"Well… No… The Head of the Family usually waits till the heir is of age," Neville answered hesitantly.

Hermione earnestly turned her attention to Sirius. "Did Mr. Potter tell you Harry can also touch that ring, without any unpleasant reaction?"

Sirius was at a loss for word. Actually, he didn't know for sure. He just assumed. He looked at Remus' direction, his eyes asking for support. But, his werewolf friend just wickedly grinned at him. He looked again at Hermione. Now, he definitely knew why this witch was at the top of her class.

"No, he didn't." He saw a look of triumph crossed her face. "Hermione, I know you have strong faith in Professor Dumbledore. I, too, believe in him, even if I don't agree with him, from time to time. He is a great wizard. One of his strengths is his deep concern for the wizarding community. But, sometimes, he gets carried away with his good intentions that he fails to see the pain, he causes to some people. You have to remember, hell is paved with good intentions." Sirius gave the bushy-haired witch a searching look. A clock on the fireplace mantle softly chimed eleven times. "It's getting late. I want you all back to your own beds. We have a busy day tomorrow."

With the Locking and Privacy Charm removed from the door, the six students tiredly piled out of the study room. "Do you think it's safe for them to know something this important?" Remus asked apprehensively.

"I have a feeling they will play an important role in Harry's life," Sirius said mysteriously.

Remus looked at him with mild amusement. "Like the feeling you had, when you told James, Lily would love his perfume?"

"That was a miscommunication. I told him hate, not love," Sirius clarified quickly.

"Like the feeling you had, when we got caught sneaking out of Hogwarts for some butterbeers?" Remus cheerfully reminded him.

"See, that wasn't my fault. If Wormtail hadn't stepped on the hem of the invisibility cloak, we wouldn't have been caught," Sirius defended himself.

"Like the feeling you had, when you charmed James's broom to go faster?" Remus was almost grinning.

"How was I supposed to know the broom would go out of control? Besides, if Prongs had been a skillful flyer like me, he wouldn't have any trouble at all." For a moment, Sirius' eyes held righteous anger. Then, he slowly dropped his head and shoulders in defeat. "You're right. It is risky trusting them with Harry's safety."

"I thought so too. But, I have a feeling they will play an important role in Harry's life," Remus commented sagely. He sedately walked toward the door, leaving Sirius with his mouth hanging wide open.

"Hey, you just repeated what I said earlier," Sirius loudly protested at Remus' retreating back.


End file.
